


Hic Sunt Dracones

by FrostedGemstones22



Series: The Passenger Series [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Beach Sex, Bloodplay, Car Sex, Easter, F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fluff and Angst, Folklore, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Magic, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No Incest, Outdoor Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Magic, Sex Pollen, Slice of Life, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-11 06:59:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18425286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostedGemstones22/pseuds/FrostedGemstones22
Summary: A collection of one-shot/shorts from the prompts of tumblr's Riverdale-Events 'Spring Fever'. All one-shots are set in my Riverdale!Supernatural AU (Witch/Vampire/Werewolf) universe!Chapter 1: Bughead Sex Pollen[Rated E]Chapter 2: Kevin/Joaquin and Werewolves[Rated T]Chapter 3: Polly/Jason and Spring Break*[Rated T]Chapter 4: Fangs/Midge and Folklore (The Fae) [Rated G]Chapter 5: Archoise and Mating/In Heat [Rated E]Chapter 6: Veronica/Reggie and Easter [Rated G]Chapter 7: Sweet Pea/Betty and Music Festivals [Rated E]*Not Incest in this story





	1. Betty/Jughead: Sex Pollen

Things to know before you read about this specific universe: You don't have to read the series to get what's going on (though I totally encourage you to check it out!), but here are the basics. Betty is a witch. The southside Serpents are werewolves. This is set somewhere book 2/season 2. In my universe, Sweet Pea and Jughead are living in a trailer together. That should about do it. Happy reading! 

\--

“So, what is this magical flower we’re looking for again?” Jughead asked, scratching his head through his beanie and squinting up through leaves in the forest. The dappled light on his face shifted as he tilted his head, and for a second, Betty had the urge to draw him or memorialize him in this moment. She leaned against a tree, humming to herself, toeing off her Toms to dig her feet into the soft moss below her. Jughead caught her movements, raising an eyebrow, but his wolfish smile wasn’t judging.

“It’s not a magical flower,” Betty corrected, “It’s a flower for my potion, and then that will make it magical. You should know this.” She said, trying not to sound frustrated. She wasn’t, not really. She had told him this yesterday after school when she’d announced this trip into the woods, but Juggie- like every other male on the planet- had an unfortunate habit of only half-listening.

“I could,” Jughead said, his grin widening, “But why would I take the time to do that when I have you and Sweet Pea ready, at a moment’s notice, to parrot back some old-as-dirt explanation?”

Betty rolled her eyes, turning around and continued searching.

“Seriously, though, it’s just regular old yarrow. Same stuff I could probably get at a plant nursery.”

“Well, why aren’t we there?” Jughead asked, jogging up beside her, “Not that I don’t _love_ forests-,”

“Yeah, you know, for being a werewolf, you sure do hate them something strange.” Betty mused.

“I hate outdoors on principal. We could go to Menards. It has all the things of society; AC, plants labeled where you can easily find them, maybe even a vending machine with a cold Coke.”

“Yarrow straight from the earth will work better,” Betty said empathetically, “And since I’m putting this potion on people, I’d prefer it to be 100% good, not just like 78% good,” Betty said with hand motions to show the difference of the two, “Wouldn’t you?”

Jughead made a ‘meh’ sound, having found a long stick and was tapping it against the trunks absentmindedly. Betty had half a mind to make some joke about dogs and fetching sticks, but Jughead seemed to realize this first and all but threw the stick past him. He was blushing red when he met Betty’s eyes.

“Faster we find this, faster we go home.” Betty just decided to go with. She recalled her transition to a witch and how strange it all was, all at once. She had seen quite a few go through the first weeks of being a werewolf. She imagined it was an even stranger feeling to have one’s body shifting around all the time. She didn’t want to make it worse for Juggie than it, inevitably, already was.

“Yep, sure. Remind me what it looks like?” Jughead stuck his hands in his jacket pocket but looked honestly interested in the task.

“This,” Betty replied, having loaded a picture of the little white-and-yellow flowered plant as her makeshift background. Jughead took the phone from her, scrolling in, tongue pressing on the inside of his cheek.

“Huh, sorta pretty,” He said in mild surprise.

“Yes, and it should be around here. Had I thought about it, I would have given you the scent and we would have been out of here in seconds,” She sighed. Jughead just shrugged.

They scoured the ground in relative silence for a couple of moments, and Betty was about to think that Sweet Pea was completely wrong about this location until Jughead called her over.

“This is? It’s white and yellow,” He said, holding a plant up, only the stalks and buds visible in his fist.

“If it is, you’d better hope you didn’t rip all of it out of the ground, Jones,” Betty teased him. Jughead probably had a witty reply, but it was cut off with violent coughing. Betty came up, taking the flower from him.

“No, this isn’t yarrow. I’m not sure what this is, to be honest.” She turned the flower around in her hand. Jughead continued to cough, his nose watering, “You okay?” She asked worriedly.

“Ack, yeah, it’s just the flower sorta got up my nose. Ohhh, yuck, my nose does not like that.” He said, rubbing his reddening nose.

“It’s not exactly pleasant.” Betty said, and a cough came up in her throat too, “Maybe we shouldn’t have been touching it.” She said, dropping the flower.

“Yeah, fu-,” Jughead blinked, “I’m having some sort of allergic reaction to it, I think.”

“We should go home,” Betty decided after a moment, “We’ll find the yarrow later. We might need to take you into the hospital if you get worse,” Betty said, her stomach jumping all over the place.

“I’m fine,” Jughead wheezed. He was not fine.

By the time they made it back to the trailer park, Jughead was itching like crazy. He was still coughing too, his nose feeling like it was on fire. Betty too was starting to feel a strange numbness in her hands. That did not bode well.

Sweet Pea wasn’t home and Jughead made a beeline for the bathroom. Betty was looking at her hands, which didn’t seem to be puffing up but was still a numb and strange feeling, when the door opened.

“Get the yarrow?” Toni asked, looking at Betty expectantly.

“Not exactly. Jughead picked up this plant that, well, I’m not sure what it was. He started coughing really bad so we came back and-Toni, what’s that look for.”

Toni, as though possessed by a demon, had run out of the trailer and slammed the door. Betty bounded after her, jiggling the lock, but something- or someone- was blocking it.

“Toni!”

“I’m not getting that pollen on me!” Toni yelled back through the door, “You’ll just have to wait for the effects to wear off before I open this door.”

“Effects...Toni, what are you on about?” Betty asked, “Toni!” She growled.

“Just...be safe kiddos.”

There was humorous lit in Toni’s voice, one that gave Betty a pause. She stood back, realizing that the tingling in her hands had all but vanished. She came to the conclusion that the tingling feeling was migrating...downward.

“Toni,” She said calmly, or as calmly as she could manage, “What did we get on us?”

There was only snickering on the other side of the door.

Betty huffed, blinking as a wave of heat seemed to settle over her. She fanned herself, but found little relief. She unzipped her jacket a little but ended up taking the whole thing off.

It still wasn’t enough.

Jughead hadn’t made much noise in the time when she’d been yelling at Toni through the door, and she hoped he was okay. He was still standing in the bathroom, back to her. His shirt was off completely, which was unusual for Jughead, and she could see the sweat gathering on his back.

Betty felt her mouth go dry.

She leaned on the doorframe, biting her lip as the tingling warmth seemed to settle in her lower stomach, an impossible need that was flaring up within her that made logic start to drift away. She blinked hard, shaking her head out, trying to come above this dazed feeling. She felt almost drunk; or, what she recalled being drunk felt like from the only time Veronica had goaded her into it.

The lust creeping into her bones was unmistakable. It wasn’t like Betty, she thought. Not that she didn’t desire Jughead, that wasn’t the problem at all. The problem- if one could call it that- was that Betty wanted nothing more than to jump his bones. And, well, they’d only had sex once and she wasn’t entirely sure if she was ready again.

Or maybe this was good, a voice of her mind that was rarely let free argued, maybe she knew she wanted him and this was helping her rid herself of all those anxieties that held her back.

Betty shrugged off her shirt, leaving her in her tank-top. Still not cool enough.

“Jughead?”

“Betty, crap. Don’t...uh, go away.”

“Are you okay?” Betty asked, coming to him. His fingers were clutching the sink so hard she thought he might crack it. As a werewolf, there was a true possibility there. His whole body was shaking like he’d run a marathon or all the way up to Canada.

“Fine.” His answer was curt.

“I…” Betty faltered, unsure of how to phrase it, how to ask it, “No, you’re not.”

“Just, go, please,” Jughead said, sounding vaguely embarrassed. When he looked up, his eyes were flashing yellow.

“Do you think you’re going to morph?” Betty asked, and did take a step back.

“Yes.”

But there was a pause. He’d obviously said it just to get her to leave the room. Betty narrowed her eyes.

“Jug,” She whispered, fingers trailing over his shoulder. He flinched.

“Don’t...don’t do that or-,”

“Or what?” She asked, surprised about the coquettish tickle in her question. As she leaned over, a strand of hair breezed over his skin. He inhaled deeply, and before Betty could think of what she was going to do next, he had spun around, shoving her against the wall of the bathroom, nose buried in her neck.

“Betty, I…” He moaned, fingers shoving her into the wall, keeping her there, although he himself had no motion of wanting to leave, “That flower was not right. It-,”

“It’s doing things to me too,” Betty whispered in his ear. She didn’t think she’d had it as bad as he did, but her body was still reacting to it.

Jughead groaned, hips pressing up against hers, his hardness warm against her thigh. Betty squirmed to relive her own growing pressure but was unable to hit just the right angle, what with Jughead torn between holding himself back and keeping her in place.

“Don’t tell me that,” Jughead laughed weakly.

“Or what?” Betty asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jughead dragged his nose up her neck, just so that his lips were inches from hers.

“You know what,” He whispered, forehead pressed to hers. It was slick with sweat, his hat having been pushed off somewhere on the tiled floor.

“What if I say please?” Betty asked in response, taking both of her hands and cupping Jughead’s face, pulling his lips onto hers. This seemed to the moment Jughead lost any and all control. He growled, literally a low wolf’s grow, in the back of his throat as he pressed his entire body up against her. His hands tangled in her hair, his tongue invading her mouth. Betty nipped just a little on his bottom lip, the motion enough to cause a shudder to run through his entire body.

His hands were suddenly all over hers. The haze had settled back over her brain. It hadn’t necessarily axed logic, Betty realized, but it more or less gave Betty a singular task that was completely necessary to complete; fuck Jughead. She still had enough logic to think that a bed might be more comfortable, although she liked him taking charge, and to remind herself that before this got too far they should find a condom. The haze seemed to heighten her pleasure though, so much so that every touch to her skin felt like he was setting her on fire.

His fingers lifted off her cami and then tore her bra off. His hands groped her breasts, flicking the nipple as Betty whimpered. Her hand was snaking around his backside, pressing against his ass to keep him closer to her, right at the spot she liked it.

“Betts,” Jughead breathed, licking around her nipple. Betty made a keening noise, allowing him to do this for a couple of seconds before she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jug, just,” She breathed inarticulately. She pulled him back up, shoving him back for just a second to undo her jeans, shoving her pants and underwear down her leg all in one. Jughead’s fingers fumbled to do the same on his own pants, and when he looked up at Betty, his eyes weren’t flickering anymore. They were completely golden, the same enchanting color as when he was turned to a wolf.

Betty gnawed on her lip in anticipation, wondering how she’d gone so long without asking for this again. She’d enjoyed the first time with Jughead, why would a second or third or fourth not be equally as enjoyable?

She swiped a condom from the sink cabinet- on of Sweet Pea’s, as Jughead’s were kept in his bedroom- as Jughead’s fingers delved between her legs. As she was tearing the wrapping off, two fingers teased her entrance, running her up and down. She had been wet long before he started, but this was just plain old torture.

“We can do all of that later,” Betty said, feeling like she wouldn’t usually turn down good foreplay, but right now all she wanted to do was feel him inside of her.

Jughead helped her roll the condom on. He made no motion to move them from the room, in fact, he blocked her from moving at all. Betty had the passing thought that Sweet Pea was going to have a fit if he found out they’d fucked in the shared bathroom, probably going as far to have them sanitize it, but it was gone from her mind before she could consider it more.

Jughead went back in for a kiss, this one a tad bit sweeter, but the passion was still there. He gave her another soft, gentle kiss, before it turned into a harder, more possessive kiss. One that made Betty’s toes curl and her body crave him even more.

She was putty at his touch as he turned her around, pressing her back so that her chest was plastered to the cool tiles, her ass was slightly raised to him. Using a shin, he kicked her stance out a little, so that her legs were spread.

“Betty,” He groaned, his hands grasping her bottom and squeezing, hard enough so there was a little bit of pain, “I’m...just need this,” He said, leaning forward and biting her neck in a semi-playful way.

“It’s fine, Jug. Better than fine,” Betty said, turning around slightly to see him out of the corner of her eye, “Just do it, please,” She found herself begging. She wasn’t opposed to this position at all. Sure, the first time she’d been on top, but she wasn’t against other ways. Plus, there was something undeniably sexy about the groaning sounds Jughead was making.

He stepped forward, fingers opening her folds, and then she felt him nudging at her entrance. In a swift motion, he pressed completely inside of her, bottoming out. Betty let out a breath of utter relief, the insane itch to her brain starting to lessen as her goal was part-way met.

“Oh, fuuuu-,” Jughead hissed between clenched teeth, “Are you good?”

It was stretching her. Not in a bad way, not even in an uncomfortable way. Just an unexpected way. It felt different from this angle. But good.  
Betty managed to shaky nod. He’d been holding himself back, but as soon as she gave the confirmation, he was unstoppable. It was a little hard; not the sweet nothings they’d whispered in each other’s ear before and the gentle touches. This was all clenched fists, hard and jerking movements, and a more primal urge overtaking them both. One of Jughead’s hands pulled on her hair a little, the other was at her waist, holding her in just the right position. Betty moaned encouragement, her cheek pressed to the wall.

His own cheek brushed against her jawbone. He gave a kiss to her shoulder blade, tongue laving over the skin.

“I’m close, Betts,” Jughead whispered, snapping his hips into hers, “You feel so good, I’m not going to last longer.”

“It’s fine,” Betty insisted, taking his hands and guiding his fingers to her clit, “I’m nearly there too.”

He seemed to know what to do, thankfully, whether it was instinct or quick guessing, but soon Betty was falling apart by his fingers, body feeling like jelly. She collapsed a little, and Jughead kept her upright, for the first time showing his enhanced werewolf strength he relied on these days so little. She didn’t know why; this was fantastic.

It wasn’t long before he was coming too, a couple of vibrant swear-words finished off by her name croaked out.

He stayed buried in her for a couple of seconds, breathing coming back to normal.

Betty blinked as he slid out. She felt much better; her mind was back.

Jughead was blushing bright red.

“So, yeah, that was-,”

Betty leaned up, giving him a quick kiss, “Don’t worry so much about it. I liked it, okay?” The last thing she wanted was him to think he’d pressured her into it or something.

“What was that?” Jughead asked, pulling his clothes back on.

Betty gave a helpless shrug.

She was just pulling her camisole back on when she heard arguing at the door.

“What do you mean I can’t go in there?” She heard Sweet Pea squawk. She was eternally grateful he hadn’t returned home ten minutes earlier, “Toni, what is going on in there?”

“We’re good,” Betty said, knocking on the other side of the door.

“Are you sure?” Toni sang back, “Because Betty Cooper, I swear to god if that pollen is still in your bloodstreams-,”

“Pollen? You...no!” Sweet Pea choked out on the other side of the door.

“I’m fine, I feel normal now. Jughead too,” She confirmed, looking over to him.

Sweet Pea slammed the door open.

“What kind of absolute idiots are you two?” He asked, dragging his hands down his face, “To touch that damned plant.”

“I didn’t know what it was! I thought it was yarrow! New wolf here, remember?” Jughead argued.

“What was that?” Betty asked, blushing.

“Haven’t you figured it out?” Sweet Pea asked, raising his eyebrows with a grin on his face.

“Sex magic voodoo something, yeah,” Jughead mumbled, “But you’d think this would be a bigger problem in town. Like, we would have heard about it.”

“Totally harmless to humans. Only affects magic. Most aren’t stupid enough to go near it,” Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, “Fucking idiot,” He said in the direction of Jughead, but it was almost in a loving way, “Can’t do anything until you orgasm if it gets anywhere on you. Really inconvenient, I tell you.”

Toni was holding back laughter at the door.

Betty grinned, sitting right up next to him, “Oh, so you speak from experience?” She teased, nudging him.

Sweet Pea opened his mouth, realizing his mistake.

“You know what? I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that.”

“I don’t,” Jughead raised a hand, setting his hat back on, “I do not want to hear about Sweet Pea’s sexcapades.”

“Yes,” Sweet Pea said, clapping his hands before Betty could rile him up more, “Thank you. I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“You hate him,” Toni corrected, “Mostly.”

“Well, starting today, I might just like him.” Sweet Pea said, glaring at Toni, “Turning over a new leaf. A new brotherhood. A friendship, some might say,” Sweet Pea began dramatically.

“Let’s just say we aren’t tempted to set each other on fire when we’re in ten feet of each other.” Jughead offered cautiously.

Betty stifled a laugh.

“I think you two like each other more than you let on,” She said, collecting her hair back into a ponytail.

Jughead and Sweet Pea both made faces at each other that were nearly cartoonishly disgusted.

Betty barked out a laugh, tugging Jughead to sit next to her so she was between the two boys. She leaned back on the threadbare sofa, mirthful and enjoying pushing their buttons. A girl had to have her fun sometime.

“See? You agree on so much already!”

\---

That's it! I'm always so awful at endings...especially on oneshots... So, I'd love to do all eight prompts with 8 different couples. Realistically speaking, I'll probably do 4 in the time the event runs. I'll still do the other 4 after, because I have ideas for all 8, but who knows! Also, hope the smut was okay! It's only very recently I've done a lot of that, so I'm still a wee bit self-conscious. 


	2. Kevin/Joaquin: Werewolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second short! This one takes place after the drive-in, so after Chapter 14 in the larger story. Can be read on it's own! What's important to know is that Joaquin is a werewolf, Kevin is a human that knows about the magical world. Sort of like an Alaric from The Vampire Diaries! That should do it.

Two days after the drive-in, Kevin Keller parked his father’s truck in a derelict driveway a block away from Sunnyside Trailers. He sat in front of his wheel for a good ten minutes, arguing with himself if he was really going to do this; go find the elusive Serpent he’d kissed at the movie. He wasn’t stupid enough to bring his truck into Sunnyside. He was the son of a sheriff; even if he knew most Serpents were probably fine folks, there was a good number that wouldn’t hesitate to vulture his car for parts to pawn. Plus, parking away, he could always back-out. Drive away and call it a day. Leave the single incident as just that...a one-time thing. 

He almost did too. Kevin wouldn’t say he was afraid. He told himself he was being cautious (truth? He was afraid...a little. For good reason, his voice of safety reminded him), and that nothing about what he was about to do was logical. Logic, which is father had always relied on so heavily. 

Emotions weren’t logical, however, Kevin told himself as he started his engine up again. He thought of his prospects if he turned away and went back to the Northside. There was Moose; who was not only dating Midge, but still in the closet. Or just experimenting, Kevin wasn’t sure. There were the older college kids he sometimes met up with via social media, but none of those were regular or dependable. There was one kid off in Greendale, but that was a very long drive. The Southside, though shady, was just across the tracks. 

And plus! He’d  _ liked  _ Joaquin. Perhaps it was hard to gauge his actual personality, since they’d more or less just played tonsil-tennis, but the little he did see of Joaquin encouraged him to dig deeper. Dig deeper even knowing what he was. 

Kevin left the truck, turning it off. 

He wasn’t stupid though. He tucked wolfsbane and some pure silver into a little pouch. His dad would have a hernia if he knew he was here and that he’d gone unprepared. 

Yes, maybe it was stupid walking into the very heart of the Southside Serpent Werewolf Pack grounds, but Kevin was taking some chances. Or, he’d never get anywhere in his love life. He took this very seriously. 

There wasn’t a lot of people who looked at him as he walked in. Far less than he thought. He’d been sweating under the illusion everyone would clock his arrival right away, but if anything, the wolves looked at him with expressions anywhere between mild-disinterest to a passing curious thought. 

He realized his folly right away. He and Joaquin hadn’t even exchanged numbers, much less gossiped about which trailer he took residence in. He didn’t even know where he was going, or if  Joaquin was even home! He considered leaving, but he’d for sure look stupid, and he was here...wasn’t he? He could give it a college try, if nothing else. 

A boy around his age noticing him loitering. He was large and intimidating, with hands as big as logs and shoulders that could block out the sun. Kevin’s hands didn’t go for the silver immediately, but he definitely put his fingers in the vicinity. 

“Hey, you, uh, lost?” 

The boy’s voice was much kinder than Kevin expected. Despite his large stature, Kevin got the immediate feeling he was a soft-spoken sort of guy. 

“Yes. I’m looking for Joaquin…” He trailed off. Had they given last names? Well, Kevin had given his- it was only fair Joaquin knew his family and all- but he was lost upon Joaquin’s, “Just...Joaquin.” He said, attempting to sound confident, as though he never intended to give a last name in the first place. 

“DeSantos?” The boy asked, like there were other Joaquins’ running around. What did Kevin know, he mused, maybe there were? Maybe the name Joaquin was a cultural werewolf thing. Maybe it was a traditional pack name? There was so much Kevin just didn’t know about werewolves, or other creatures, that he wasn’t in a position to be making judgement. 

He did assume, though, that the Joaquin he was looking for and Joaquin DeSantos were one in the same. If that was really his last name. The boy could have told him that it was something stupid Batman or Lupin or Sauron and Kevin would have been none the wiser, inclined to believe him. 

“Yes. Him.” Kevin said, nodding gratefully, “I’m Kevin. His…” Kevin trailed off, once again unable to articulate his thoughts. He ran his hands through his hair, hoping he wouldn’t have to spell it out. Were wolves inclusive of the gays? 

Luckily, understanding lit the man’s face. 

“Ah. Yes. Right,” There was no sense of resentment, just a lightbulb going on, “I’m Darkon.” 

“I take it that’s not your real name?” Kevin couldn’t help but question. 

Darkon laughed, his white teeth juxtaposed against his inky black skin. Kevin surreptitiously looked for fangs but saw none...right now. 

“It’s the one that matters, Norther.” He said, “C’mon. I’ll take you over there.” 

Joaquin’s trailer was mostly the same as every other trailer. The only defining factor that would lead Kevin to it on later dates was the thin strip of 60s avocado green painted as a flit of color round the sides and a half-dead potted plant near the door. 

Darkon nodded to Kevin, leaving him off. Kevin gave a half-wave that the boy probably didn’t see, before sticking his hands into his pockets and looking carefully at the door.

He was about to knock when he heard voices coming around the side. Joaquin was one...the other was FP. 

He sheltered himself behind the other side of the trailer, none to keen on having a run-in with the Alpha. Not only was FP an intimidating figure, he for sure didn’t want FP to think he was here because of the whole Jason shit going on. He waited until FP clapped Joaquin’s shoulder goodbye and was all the way on the other side of the park. 

Kevin paused, peering around the side of the trailer, but didn’t see the person of his interest. 

“He knows you were there,” Joaquin said, sneaking up behind him like he had materialized out of thin air. As far as Kevin knew that wasn’t a werewolf skill. Kevin nearly jumped out of his skin, “He just didn’t want to waste the time right now to interrogate you.” 

“Rather I’d be interrogating him,” Kevin mumbled under his breath. He realized belatedly that FP had probably smelled him, or at the very least, sensed him. Useless to hide from magics, he reminded himself. 

“So, you’re here.” Joaquin said, brushing past Kevin and opening his door, “You have balls, compadre.” 

“I sure hope so,” Kevin said, coming after him. He took two steps up to the door and paused. Joaquin looked back at him with half-amusement, half-wariness. 

“Well, come in, Preppy. What are you waiting for?” 

“I’m not a vampire,” The words were spilling out of Kevin before he could stop them, “You’d have smelled that, of course. I was just being polite.” 

“Huh.” That was really all Joaquin managed to say, eyes widening at Kevin’s words. 

Inside was quaint. Small, sure, but comfortable feeling. Lived-in. The style choices actually weren’t too far off from his father’s taste; plaid, hunting, cameo. It was almost comical. In fact, Kevin was almost sure that his dad owned the same throw blanket on Joaquin’s couch. 

“Come in here,” Joaquin said, grasping Kevin’s wrist and pulling him to a bedroom. The very touch made Kevin’s heart thump and he was not regretting this at all. 

Kevin didn’t think this was a invite for sex, as much as he maybe wanted it to be. Rather, it was a secluded place to chat. Which is what he’d come here for. There were signs of other family living here; at least one parent and a child, but that was as much as Kevin gleaned. 

“Vampires.” That’s all Joaquin said, scrutinizing Kevin with a new look on his face. 

“Yes. I came here to have...the chat.” He said slowly. 

Joaquin looked surprised, which was expected, “Oh. I’m clean. Got checked up three months ago, haven’t been with anyone since.” 

“Not that! Thought, good to know,” Kevin nearly choked, “Me too. For the record. Uhm, damnit, I meant...I know. That you’re a werewolf,” Kevin added for clarity, since his words had been miscommunication only moments before. 

This seemed to shock Joaquin more, which was the response he’d been thinking would happen. 

“So you, Mr. Do-gooder,” Joaquin said, poking Kevin’s chest for emphasis, “Knowingly not only made out with a gang member, but a werewolf at that?” 

“...Yes?” 

“Are you crazy?” Joaquin asked, but he was grinning.

“Maybe,” Kevin groaned, “Desperate, more like.” He didn’t elaborate more.

Joaquin bit the inside of his lip, raising an eyebrow, “Right. Same.” 

This did surprise Kevin. 

“Look, Sweet Pea pointed you out to me. Knew I wasn’t lucky in relationships. It’s not a big deal. You’re lucky I’m nearly out of options too, else I wouldn’t have taken my chances on a Northsider like you.” 

“Oh, well, gee.” Kevin muttered, feeling a little insulted. 

“You’re honestly telling me that if you had the pick of any guy you’d choose a werewolf thug that pulls C’s on average?” Joaquin asked pointedly, “And, you’re...a Keller.” 

“Yeah.” Kevin said, “And you still made out with me.” 

“Maybe I’m crazy too,” Joaquin said, a genuine smile splitting across his face. It was soft. It was all-revealing. All of a sudden, Kevin’s worries seemed to vanish. He laughed, his concerns seeming less significant. 

“I’m glad you sought me out, Preppy,” Joaquin said, closing the distance between them. 

“You didn’t give me a number or anything.” Kevin said, waiting for the other boy to make the first motions. 

“Didn’t think you’d want to see me again.” Joaquin said so quietly that Kevin maybe imagined it. 

“Did you want to see me?” Kevin asked genuinely. 

“I’m pleased you’re here. That enough?” Joaquin asked sharply, then tempered, “I guess I’m not...always sure.” 

“Right. Well, here I am.” Kevin said, swinging his arms out as though presenting himself. 

“Yes. Here you are,” Joaquin agreed, surging forward to put no distance between the pair, his lips warm on Kevin’s. Kevin melted into it for a second, forgetting everything. Joaquin was intoxicating; he’d been at the drive-in too. His warmth was everywhere and he was so responsive, so willing. 

But Kevin pushed back. 

“The reason I came. To talk about werewolf stuff. Is there things I should know about kissing wolves or whatnot?” Kevin didn’t want to overstate his relationship here, “Things that might be...important to know beforehand?” 

“You came here to talk?” Joaquin asked, running his long hair back. Kevin couldn’t tell if he was frustrated or amused. 

“Yes. No. Both?” Kevin flailed a bit, wincing. 

“Well, I dunno what to tell you,” Joaquin gave a over-exaggerated shrug, “You’ll smell like me, it will start to linger for longer the more we…’hang out’. You won’t notice it. Other wolves or magics will. I might start to smell like human,” He scrunched up his nose, “But your scent is hardly overpowering. If we go out to eat, I might get my steaks closer to still moo-ing than cooked. I get moody around moon changes. You do know that I can change whenever I want, none of that ‘only on full moon’ BS?” At Kevin’s hurried nod, Joaquin continued, “If we get into fights, fur might start popping out or my fangs will length or my eyes will flash. If I get really turned on that might happen too. I don’t know, is that what you’re looking for?” 

Kevin blinked, trying to file away all of it, “Yes. That.” He said. It was so logical, he thought, so second-nature for Joaquin. 

“Well, that’s the short of it. It’s like asking me what it’s like to be hanging out with a Mexican. It’s cultural. You just learn it, Prep.” Joaquin said, crossing his arms. 

“I’m supposed to be the bridge between your kind and my kind. I want to know. Also, for my own knowledge,” he added, “But, if you think that’s the important stuff.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then…” Kevin, though Joaquin had made it clear that he desired him, felt unsure about kissing him again. 

“Thank god,” Joaquin murmured, pulling Kevin to him, diving in so passionately that Kevin felt like he was going to drown in this boy. So deep that Kevin couldn’t have stopped him if he wanted. So deep that if Kevin never came up, he wouldn’t complain. 

Joaquin’s fingers were curious and delving at the hem of his shirt. He was feeling along the his skin when he suddenly startled back, yelping like he’d been tasered. 

It took Kevin a second. He looked down to see his little safety-pouch. Kevin opened it, and Joaquin laughed. He sucked on his thumb, cussing. There was a blister already forming on it, red and irritated. 

“Look, Preppy, I have a lotta kinks, but masochism isn’t one of them,” He said, looking warily at the bag of things that could for sure hurt- and even kill- him. 

“Right, sorry.” Kevin felt like an idiot, fumbling to untie it and throw it across the room. 

“It’s probably for the best,” Joaquin said, nudging it away with a baseball bat, “Since not all wolves will be as...friendly as I am.” He said, a feral and sultry smile on his face, “And, as nice as I am,” He whispered, leaning in close, “I still bite.” He nipped on Kevin’s neck, just a playful one, and Kevin felt his legs go to jelly. 

“Sweet mother of-,” Kevin breathed out, “You’re going to be so bad for me.” He was so hyped about that. 

“I hope so,” Joaquin said. 

“My dad’s not home often, we can meet there,” Kevin said all at once, going hard imaging Joaquin sneaking in through a window for moonlight rendezvous or mid-day breaks. 

“Or here. My parents aren’t around much either.” Joaquin said with an unconcerned shrug. 

“But..you just said…” Kevin frowned, casting a look back to the bag. 

“Wolves in general are dangerous, sure, but no one will give you shit as my boyfriend.” Joaquin said plainly, like it was obvious. 

“Boyfriend?” Kevin echoed a little dreamily. 

A flash of doubt passed Joaquin’s face, “Unless-,” 

“No! I just, I’m glad. Boyfriend,” Kevin echoed, looking at Joaquin. 

“Uh, yeah. You don’t date much?” Joaquin guessed. 

“No. My dad nearly kicked me out the other day to go find a ‘nice gay boy’. Sad when your dad is your wing man.” Kevin gave a leveled sigh.

“I think he’s going to be disappointed,” Joaquin said, “Because I am only .5 of those things. Pan; but don’t let that bother you. I’m very interested in you. I’m definitely not nice and I’m only a ‘boy’ 50% of the time,” He explained at Kevin’s curious expression. 

“Well,” Kevin said decisively, “I’ll take you at 0%. Full wolf.” 

“Aren’t we brave?” 

“Just stupid, maybe,” Kevin said, grateful that they were already so casual with each other. 

Joaquin’s phone beeped from his bed. He checked it and gave Kevin one last short but searing kiss.

“Said I’d go running with Fangs,” He said apologetically. 

“Right. I did sort of surprise you here. Can’t be upset you have plans.” Kevin said, though was disappointed still. 

Joaquin was searching. He came back with a sharpie and penned his phone-number on Kevin’s palm. 

“Howl at me sometime soon,” He said, closing Kevin’s fist to protect the ink. 

He almost left without anything else. But Kevin, feeling emboldened, grabbed him back for one final kiss. Joaquin chuckled, nodding to himself. 

Then, he was gone. 

Kevin waited around. He was curious, admittedly. He knew from Betty’s retelling that wolves and clothes didn’t go together. As in that clothes didn’t magically poof on and off for a wolf, if you morphed while wearing clothes, kiss those Reeboks goodbye. They weren’t at a point in their relationship where Joaquin would be stripping in front of him, but Kevin was curious about what he looked like as a wolf. He’d never been up close and personal to a changed werewolf. 

Joaquin’s bedroom window looked out to the forest surrounding them. He caught a flash of fur out of the corner of his eye. Kevin turned to see a smaller gray wolf dart through the foliage. He didn’t think that was Joaquin, but he couldn’t be sure. 

A second later, a majestic looking wolf with the same color fur as Joaquin’s hair chased after him. It was unmistakable; that was Joaquin.

The wolf paused at the edge of the treeline and looked back to his trailer, directly at Kevin. His eyes were humored, as though he predicted Kevin would stick around. They were so human it was a little terrifying, to be perhaps a yard away from a great beast that he felt no fear around, only awe. 

The wolf gave a small howl, more of a yelp, and Kevin held up his hand with the number to indicate he understood. The wolf shook out its fur, and then vanished into the woods.

Kevin breathed out. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding air in. 

It was decided; in all his years of life, Kevin Keller had never seen anything more sublime. 


	3. Jason/Polly: Spring Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Polly, written for Theme 1: Spring Break!   
> This one has LESS supernatural elements in it (blink and you miss it) but it is TERRIBLY important to the longer story I'm telling, has A TON of important background info!   
> And, just to get this out of the way, in this story, Jason and Polly are NOT related. Wanna know how? Read on...

Friday at 3:30, fifteen minutes after the bell had rung, Riverdale High was practically empty. Unsurprising, as most of the kids had strewn out of the halls to get a start on their spring breaks as soon as possible. Polly sat in the office, going over the checklists for the volunteer trip one last time. 

Her cell phone rang. She swiftly answered it with a bright and cheery hello, per her usual greeting. 

“Polls, I think we found someone else to help with the trip!” It was her friend, Amanda, who would have loved to join her on this adventure, had she not made an appointment to get her wisdom teeth out during the break. 

“Oh, really?” While Polly was confident in her leadership abilities, leading a volunteer trip with a group of 5th graders was daunting, even with help from two teachers. As it was, they were just within the law of students to helpers ratio, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to welcome any and all help, “Thank god.” 

“Super last minute, he just went home to grab a bag,” Amanda hummed. 

“He?” Polly’s eyebrows rose up. She frowned, cycling through the males at her school, trying to think of who might have signed up with genuine intentions. There wasn’t a lot. At Amanda’s paused and inhale of breath on the other end, Polly was immediately suspicious, “Who is it?” She asked dryly. 

“Jason Blossom.” 

“Mandy-,” Polly began to protest, rubbing her forehead and groaning. How could Mandy have fallen for that? The least likely person who was serious about going on a volunteer trip had to be Mr. Richy Spoilt-Pants, Jason Blossom. He was a nice guy, sure, but not exactly volunteer nice. 

“I know, I know! But he sounded real serious,” Amanda popped her gum over the phone, “Look, Polly, you said it yourself. You’re not in a position to say no…?” 

Polly held back a frustrated sigh, “He’d better be serious,” She mumbled, watching as before her very eyes Jason pulled up in an Uber, waving to her through the glass pane. 

“I’m sure you’ll kick his ass if he isn’t,” Amanda laughed. 

_ Darn right I will.  _

Jason came up to the office door, leaning against the wall. 

“Hey, so, are we waiting for the other chaperones still?” 

“We’re all set now,” Polly said blithely, “The other two adults- the teachers- are with the bus and will pick us up in...five or so minutes.” 

“Oh,” Jason blinked, “Just us.” 

“It’s not exactly a dream jet-setting vacation like the Maldives, or even to NYC. Just small towns.” Polly said, shrugging, “If this isn’t your thing-,” 

“I’m good. I swear,” Jason said, shooting her a smile, “Really.” 

“Hmm,” Polly raised an eyebrow, “We’ll see, I guess.” 

XXxxXX

Unsurprisingly, trying to more or less control a group of fifteen 12-year-olds left little time for friendly chatting between the two high schoolers. In fact, it wasn’t until day 2 of the trip that Polly even got a conversation with Jason longer than short instructions or passing comment. 

He was being nice, as Polly knew him to be. 

Though they were in the same grade, they didn’t exactly run in the same circles. Funny, since he was a football player and she a cheerleader. It seemed logical. The only commonality they had was the football field. Past that? Well…

Polly was the girl who was always volunteering and helping at Youth Groups and Church club. She had good grades; not great, but good enough. Enough that it kept her busy in her free time. She would be smiling and happy to anyone who passed by her way, but in truth she was a bit shy when it came to friends. Amanda had more or less adopted her over Polly picking her as a companion in high school. 

Jason on the other hand almost seemed like every bad stereotype. He was rich, he was gregarious and popular, he always had girls hanging around him. His extracurricular were...sports, sports, and oh, some more sports. She got the feeling he was intelligent, but if he was in honors or AP classes, it was none of the ones Polly was in. He too seemed nice to everyone that bumped him in the halls, but he actually made friends with them. People came to Jason. Jason never had to reach out to make friends himself.

So, in this way, it was reasonable the pair had never truly crossed paths until this trip. 

“You have a sister, don’t you?” Jason asked conversationally as they loaded up on breakfast early that morning. 

Polly nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Betty. She’s a freshman.” 

“I think I know her. Looks just like you,” Jason said. 

Polly pretended to consider the choice between oatmeal or cereal with intensity, “I don't have to ask about you,” She said after a very awkward pause, “Cheryl.” 

“Mhh. Cheryl,” Jason just said in agreement. His tone sort of said it all. Polly dared a lookup to see a loving, but exasperated, smile on his face. 

She giggled softly to herself. 

This kid might be okay. 

XXxxXX

Polly found herself watching Jason very carefully after that. She paid more attention to a fellow supervisor than she might have with others, but she told herself her worries were founded. That is, however, until he defied every expectation. 

He was patient with the children. He was able to joke with them and quickly gain their trust and friendship, but also able to lay down the law to stop stupid kids from doing stupid things. And, when he raised his voice a little, they listened. It had taken Polly nearly a month to gain a close enough relationship with them to be able to effectively reprimand them. 

He was a good judge of logic and was a wealth of knowledge Polly wouldn’t have expected. When kids came with him to a question, he usually didn’t skip a beat in answering. Kids liked coming to him. 

He never once complained about the crappy 3-star hotels they were staying in, despite the fact she knew he was used to a literal mansion. In fact, you would never be able to guess he came from money with how swimmingly he took to sharing a room with the male teacher and the threadbare double beds they were put up in. 

He was approachable and easy-going, never once raising an issue if their plans changed and willing to be 100% present when the kiddos were around. He was the perfect sort of supervisor. 

Polly was stumped and astounded. 

She wanted to express her gratitude and surprise consistently but wasn’t sure how to do it without sounding like a magnanimous asshole. 

“Hey, you’re not the prissy rich-boy I’d thought you were.” 

“Wow, you get along great with kids. I assumed the Blossoms taught each other to eat children or something.” 

“Look at you, that kid really respects you! Color me shocked!” 

Yeah, not exactly what she was going for. 

Maybe Jason knew. He was always looking to her to be double-sure he was doing everything how he was meant to. A trip that was hardly funded to begin with sure didn’t have fancy instructional papers or actual training, and he deferred to Polly in a stitch. She hoped she was giving him positive looking nods or un-awkward thumbs up, but she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. 

XXxxXX

Day 4 found the pair in a Church. 

While this trip wasn’t specifically Catholic in nature, few kids that weren’t religious had signed up. Plus, the highschool and middle school was more prompt to accept the trip when framed religiously, so to Church the students went. Even just for silent reflection. 

Polly had been raised Catholic. Her parents were the poster-family for a good Christian family. She had been strictly brought up with weekly visits and prayer before meals. Her family got up every Christmas morning to go to the earliest possible time before opening any presents. Easter was more of an all-day religious affair than anything fun (Easter baskets had stopped happening around three years ago). 

She was a...Red Letter Catholic, if she  _ had  _ to put a label on it. She and Betty twittered about their joined lack of true religious beliefs, but both had agreed that they didn’t find any alternatives better. Plus, their mother would rain hellfire down upon them if they tried to become Agnostic or an Atheist, so they were more or less forced into their roles. 

Polly liked some parts of the Bible. She liked the message to love thy neighbor. She liked the idea that all were welcome and forgiven. She liked that it preached non-violence. She liked quiet moments to reflect. She liked the ilk that she met through Church events. She liked being a ‘good person’, which was the root of all those messages anyway.

She didn’t necessarily uphold all of the rules, though. She rarely actually managed to give anything up for Lent (even if she told Alice she had). She might not go to Church every week if not so prompted. She would probably attend important dates, but not at 6 AM. She wasn’t a total shut in and knew what happened at parties and all. She wasn’t against premarital sex, just hadn’t ever a cause for it to happen. Her mother was unsurprisingly very strict with dating. 

Her mom  _ had  _ given her birth control pills, though Polly was under no illusion this was a go-ahead to have wild one-night stands. They both knew it was for her acne, because her mother was brutally honest, and Alice was particularly militant about Polly taking it. 

Polly hated how her mother harped on zits she couldn’t control, but the daily pill was helping her. Even if it tasted like literal dirt. 

But, she digressed. Point of the issue being; Alice=  _ very  _ religious. Polly= minorly religious, but keeps up appearances. 

So, she could appreciate someone who was making an effort with the Church, even if they weren’t religious. The little chapel they were helping this week was the one place that Polly had undeniable peace and quiet. If she were lounging in her room, she ran the risk of a student coming to her with a frustrating query. 

No one would bother her in here. 

Maybe Jason had come to the same conclusion. He had appeared in the pews a few rows back, dutifully silent. So silent and still Polly nearly missed his presence entirely, but his red hair wasn’t a hallmark that faded easily into backgrounds. 

She almost just gave a curt nod, but found herself drawn to sit next to him. He had that sort of charisma. 

They shared a wordless exchange where Polly asked him if she could sit and he scooted over, indicating a section of faded fabric for her. 

The church was empty besides a lone priest lighting candles and preparing for the next day’s service. 

Jason was sitting slightly forward, hands clasp on the front row of the pew. His expression was impossible to read. 

“I didn’t know your family was religious,” Polly said in a quiet voice as not to disturb the worker. 

Jason glanced over at her, a funny smile on his face. 

“We’re not,” he snorted, as though laughable, “In fact, I’m not entirely unconvinced that Cheryl wouldn’t burst into flames the second she walks through the door.” 

Polly let out a loud giggle, one that was unexpected and much too loud for the quiet. She sent an apologetic look to the priest, who just frowned at the pair. 

“And not because she’s...you know.” Jason waved a hand. Then, he winced, “I wasn’t supposed to...it’s not…” 

“I don’t,” Polly’s forehead creased. She prided herself on not spending a great deal of time with Cheryl, even if they were both Vixens. She just wasn’t a huge fan. 

“Bi.” He said after a second. Polly hummed, not shocked about this revelation. She didn’t care who you loved. Gay, straight, bi...whatever, not her place to judge. She thought the Church was pretty backwards on that. 

“I guess it’s not a secret, but it’s also not common knowledge. I forget,” Jason said quietly, “Our parents don’t...well, you’d almost think them Catholic.” He said with zero humor in his voice. 

“Oh,” Polly murmured. The indication was clear. For as frustrating as Alice and Hal were, at least they did all they did out of love. She couldn’t be sure the same was at the Blossom household. Maybe Alice wouldn’t be pleased as punch if she or Betty were lesbians, but she didn’t think her mother would be cruel. 

The priest shot them another look and Polly stood, “Did you want to pray more?” 

Jason shook his head, “I was just looking for a moment to think. We can leave.” 

The walk to the hotel was perhaps five minutes. 

“So,” Polly began again, “I know Cheryl is in Bora Bora. WIth the rest of your family. And you’re here.” There may not have been an explicit question, but Jason understood. 

“I just needed some time away. My family can be difficult. My parents, mostly.” He said, face darkening. 

“I get that.” 

“I don’t think you could,” Jason shrugged, “Sorry. I don’t mean to load it on you. Not your fault.” 

“I did ask,” Polly said kindly, “I’m a safe person to talk to. I don’t find enjoyment in spreading rumors and secrets.” 

“We could talk for this entire week and never truly unpack them,” Jason waved a hand, “I’ll just leave it at this; this was an escape. Not the worst way to spend a spring break.” 

Polly didn’t want to judge him more on it, but she was curious about his family life. The Blossoms were so imposing, it was hard to see them as real people. Jason was real though. Startling real. 

“And Cheryl’s not going through withdrawal?” Polly asked, then immediately winced. They weren’t close enough friends for her to joke about such things. It probably just sounded unkind. 

Jason raised an eyebrow at her. The Blossom twins closeness was talked about by many. Cheryl and Jason did everything together. It was hard not to think of one without thinking of the other. 

“She threw a fit in typical Cheryl style,” Jason replied, seemingly well aware of the whispers, “But think about it. We both hate our parents, really hate. We were raised to be each other’s only friends, only companions. I miss her already too.” 

“I guess when you put it like that. You did share a womb. I love Betts, but I’m not sure I’d want to be  _ that  _ close to her.” Polly gave a little shudder. 

“Cheryl can be difficult. I know that more than anyone. But she’s a good person, deep down. Maybe really deep down, but it’s there. She cares deeply, you just don’t see it. She was taught to grow a thick skin or else mother would have eaten her alive. She doesn’t let many in, but once you do get that far, you’d see it’s all an act. Most of it is an act,” He corrected, “Don’t be too hard on her.” 

“Sorry,” Polly’s whole face was bright red. She really did feel bad. 

Jason crossed his arms, “It’s not an uncommon reaction to her. I’m just saying. I’m her brother, I have to. We protect each other. No one else will.” 

Polly smiled, nodding, “That’s really sweet.” 

“What about you?” Jason, as he walked, shifted to nudge her arm softly. 

“Oh, my parents are weird, sure, but not like that-,” 

“I mean, why are you here? Was it just to escape Riverdale?” Jason added on. 

“Sorta. My parents- and Betty- are going to a News Reporter Symposium in Atlanta, I think. Not exactly glam. I could have stayed home all week, but I had been helping plan this for a year. To help bolster my college applications. And, that I actually like helping people.” She didn’t want to sound vain. 

“I don't think anyone could accuse you of being a mean person. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. Serious.” Jason said, waving his hand out. 

“You’re just saying that,” Polly mumbled, “I just put myself out there to help others. Most don’t.” 

“And that means something.” They’d reached the front of the hotel, “Well, Cooper, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jason announced, giving her a wink and a salute before taking the stairs to the boy's rooms on the second floor.

Even though he was long gone, Polly’s fingers lifted in a wave. 

Jason Blossom was a peculiar person. 

XXxxXX

Day six, the day before they were to leave, they found themselves alone once again. Not alone as as in a locked empty room together, but they were given a handful of hours to explore the town and enjoy themselves. They were, after all, kids themselves. 

It felt like a date that wasn’t. They found an old movie theater playing only weird box office flops and paid to see  _ The Green Lantern  _ with Ryan Reynolds. Polly didn’t even think that movie was worth the two dollars they paid, but it provided good laughs. After, they located an ice-cream shop and took their frozen treats to a park. 

The town was a lot like Riverdale in that it was tiny and quaint. It was small enough that the Park was mostly deserted, especially at this hour. They, as they meandered through the grassy space, found a rock structure that had scuff marks all over. Polly probably wouldn’t have climbed up on it alone, worried about being reprimanded, but Jason saw it and made the decision to climb it immediately. 

“You’re just going to sit down there all alone?” He teased at her sour expression, “C’mon, it’s cool up here. Plus, you’re still holding my ice cream.” 

Polly grumbled all the way up but wasn’t going to make herself seem like even less fun by refusing to go along with it. 

Once on top, they settled in.

The air was warm. There was a slight breeze that sent ripples across through the trees and across their cheeks. 

“I hope this has been a good vacation for you,” Polly said, drawing her legs up. 

“It has.” He agreed, but she wondered if he was nice enough that he wouldn't tell her if it hadn’t. 

He and Cheryl were truly so different. Night and day. Left and right. Action and inaction. It wasn’t that hard to see. They were alike in their exact differences. Perhaps two sides of the same coin was apter. She got the acute feeling Jason was the one constantly holding Cheryl back, reminding her to be more kind. She also inferred that Cheryl was the one who taught Jason to be strong and chivalrous. Together, they probably had a good time. Others around them probably liked them better together, as they tempered one another. 

Their conversation came effortlessly. Maybe it was because they’d spent a week together. Maybe they were more similar than they had realized. Maybe the night and the euphoria and the laughter of the town and their excursion gave them both a freeing feeling in their chests. Whatever it was, Polly felt like Jason was a good friend and not a classmate she’d only known in passing a week ago. 

At a lull in the conversation, just as Polly was almost ready to offer to start walking back, Jason asked a question that surprised her. 

“What’s a secret you have that you haven’t ever told anyone,” He asked, laying down on the rocks, seeming to ask the question to the stars, “A secret you’d take to your grave.”

They had done away with frivolous easy questions long ago. They had reached more complicated ones about half an hour before this, so the severity of the question itself was not weird. It was the actual content and his pinched face when he said it. 

Polly somehow knew he wanted to tell her something, something he’d been holding inside forever, something deep. Maybe he’d decided she was a polite enough person that she wouldn’t actually spill secrets. Maybe he was banking that they’d never talk again. Maybe he had vetted her as a continuing friend already and this was the entry-level to companionship with Jason Blossom.

Polly wasn't sure. All she knew is that something was weighing on him and she felt like it was her duty to allow him to tell her without the embarrassment of it. By hiding it in a question, it was safer. 

Polly actually did think about it. She was a fairly open person. She didn’t like secrets, at least not earth-shattering ones. She lived her life to try not to collect secrets or hidden truths; her own or others. 

“I’ve thought about suicide,” She whispered, the only big secret she had. The one she didn’t think she could tell anyone, “And I've thought of murder. That I could get away with it. That the smart criminals aren’t caught. It’s not meditated stuff. With suicide, sometimes I’ll just think that it would be easier to be dead than alive. Considered how I’d do it. I’ve never tried it, so maybe that part doesn’t count, but I’ve thought about it a lot. With the murder, god,” Polly buried her face, “I don’t know where it comes from. I don’t actually want to kill someone, I think. It’s always over something stupid, like a guy cuts me off on a freeway or a customer is rude to me. There’s just the quickest second where I think about it. Then, it’s gone. And I’m horrified.” 

She didn’t dare look at Jason, “You must think me clinically insane.” 

“No, not at all,” Jason frowned, “I think everyone thinks about death sometimes. Maybe not exactly like that, but,” he gave a shrug. 

“I don’t want to worry my family. It’s not a real desire...I think.” Polly bit a nail uneasily. 

Jason nodded sagely, “Well, now you’ve told me. Next time you are thinking about suicide, call me. I don’t care what time it is, what I’m doing, where I am. You have a friend.” 

“Why?” Polly asked, narrowing her eyes. 

“Because no one should shoulder that alone. As for the murdering stuff...I guess I can’t judge. My family’s pretty dark.” He said, but there was a slight wince. 

Then, there was a long pause. Polly looked at Jason expectantly. 

He didn’t seem to be speaking. She wondered if this was a ploy to get her to spill something worthwhile, and then he’d back out? Was he playing her? 

Then…then he whispered something so quiet Polly couldn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

Jason drew in a deep breath, preparing himself. Polly wondered how he could have a secret that was making him more on edge than ‘I sometimes think of cold-blooded murder’. 

“I’m not a Blossom.” 

Polly just blinked dumbly. 

“Come again?” 

“I’m not a Blossom. Not really. I’m adopted.” He said slowly, his eyes catching Polly’s. Polly blinked rapidly, trying to process. 

“You’re kidding.” 

Jason gave a slow shake of his head. 

“But...Cheryl...she always talks like you two have been together since actual birth. Womb sharing and all that. TMI, to be honest, but-,” Polly knit her eyebrows together. 

“I was adopted pretty young. Four, I think. My parents- err, Penelope and Clifford, they raised Cheryl and I like we were siblings. There was no talk of the fact I came after. They did something to Cheryl to make her believe it. Maybe that’s why she’s so attached. Maybe they mentally fucked her up enough to be imprinted on me or something. It’s just a thought I have sometimes. I think they tried for me too, but it didn’t take. It doesn’t matter. It would be heresy to mention it. They won’t let anyone know that I’m…” He breathed out. His shoulders didn’t seem quite as tense now that he’d said it. Polly had the feeling that, apart from his parents and whoever helped with adoption, she was the only other person in the world to know. It was a sort of terrifying feeling. 

“Have you ever wondered…” 

“All the time. About everything. About my birth parents, though it doesn’t matter. I’m theirs.” 

“By name and law, yes,” Polly agreed cautiously, “But your genetics is still...well, you.” 

“I took on the family legacy, and I probably have a better life now than I would have. And I wonder why they adopted me. I know that I was specifically chosen for my age, my red hair and for my ma- for other things.” 

Polly couldn’t have guessed what the third point was, but she didn’t want to press it. This was already hard on him as it was to admit it. 

“They wanted to make a weird twin thing?” Polly scowled, “Wouldn’t it have been easier to not make a multiple?” 

“Yeah, probably.” Jason agreed. Polly wondered if that was his real name? Or, the name his birth mom had given him. Maybe she’d never given him one to begin with? It made her look at him so different now. 

“Wow,” Polly finally murmured. 

“I just had to tell someone. I can’t tell Cheryl. It would kill her.” He said, “And she’s who I tell everything to. We might not be blood siblings, not the genetic kind I mean, but she is my  _ sister _ and I love her.” 

“I’m glad you told me.” Polly said. She meant it, “And, same offer for me. You ever need someone to talk to again, at any time, I’m free.” 

Jason nodded wearily, “Thanks, Cooper. For everything.” 

XXxxXX

Polly didn’t believe in fate or magic. She might be a little romantic and like a good fantasy romance, but she didn’t think it happened in real life. She thought most Halloween costumes were reaching, at best. Unexplained things in the universe were just things science hadn’t yet figured out. 

Still, it was hard to ignore that the night on the rocks had fundamentally changed both Jason and Polly, and more importantly, tied them together. Polly could admit that it was impossible to go back to how they’d been. They’d crossed a line together, both sacrificed a secret to the other, and now they were set upon a different path. 

And while Polly abhorred to say it, perhaps it did almost feel a little magical.

Oh, if only she knew.

XXxxXX

Monday morning of the next week was a bright sunny day.

“You’re going to have to tell me everything,” Amanda breathed, patting her cheeks, “What was Jason Blossom like?” 

“Unexpected. Good.” 

“Did you two talk a lot?” 

“Sorta.” 

“Is he nice?” 

“Yep.” 

“Can you answer me with more than one word answers,” Amanda whined. 

Polly shrugged, “It’s hard to explain. It just was. We became friends.” 

Across the hall, Cheryl caught a flash of red. She thought it might be Jason for one hopeful second, but realized it was Cheryl. Knowing what she knew now, Polly felt her cheeks blush. It was still a little unimaginable that Jason wasn’t really her sister. It felt like it had been made up, had the night not been so vivid in Polly’s memory, maybe she would have thought it a strange dream. 

“Well, you’ll find the words,” Amanda said, “I believe in you. See you after class. Kisses, darling.” 

Polly sighed. She was expecting things to go back to sort of how they had been before. Maybe her and Jason were more casual, but overall, he had his friends and she had hers. Why was she missing him so much?

She turned to see Jason leaning against the lockers. Waiting...for her? 

He grinned, dipping in close to her. 

“Polly Cooper…” He said, not shying an inch away, “I’d like to take you on a date.” 

“Seriously?” Polly asked. 

“Dead serious. What will it be?” 

It took Polly only a second to consider it. She smiled. 

“I would be honored.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really interesting to write because I wanted to explore Polly/Jason and their relationship more. It was weird to write because we don't actually have a lot of information on the pair's personalities. Well, we have Polly, but bat-shit crazy Polly. And JASON! Oh, boy, we know almost NOTHING about Jason, which is so weird because he is the character that single-handily changes EVERYTHING in Riverdale. 
> 
> As for the 'twist', well...I just didn't like them being related. Granted, they're 3rd cousins, which share a pretty small amount of genetic material and in a town like Riverdale, chances are MOST people are 3rd cousins somehow, but it sorta squicks me out, so no? I know Riverdale did it first (twice, actually) but just *slight shudder*. 
> 
> This theory came out after 'The Midnight Club' where that whole thing with Penelope was brought to light. Their theory is that Jason is the adopted non-biological one and Cheryl is the true biological child in the family. It points out that Penelope/Cheryl have a ton of shared personality traits (like creating chaos, sorta a bitch, possibly bi/lesbian) and the fact that the Blossoms like to adopt to keep it all in the family. Sure, Trevor appeared as a young Clifford, but that's I think just to reinforce the idea of TWINS (even created) GETTING IT ON. And, it would make sense why Clifford- apart from being a monster- would be more okay with killing Jason, because he wasn't his own. It would explain why Cheryl and Jason had that almost weird incesty vibe going on, at least from Cheryl's POV. Finally, Cheryl seemed to swoop in on Archie pretty quickly, a red-head, so there was theories that the Blossoms were considering Archie as the new Jason. I dunno. I think it's an interesting theory and I sort of like it. 
> 
> You can read this story with NO supernaturalism in it, but if you want to know how it connects to the story at large, read on
> 
> *Jason wasn't just picked for his age and red hair, he was also picked because he had the warlock genetic, as his mother was picked because she had witch genetics. 
> 
> *They tied Jason to their family with a magic ritual. He is theirs insomuch as law and by magic, which is very much a big deal in the magical world. Through this, he was able to tap into their magical signature, even if he couldn't use it
> 
> *As we see in my story, the Blossoms really enjoy their memory modification spells, so they modified Cheryl's (and attempted to do Jason's as well) so that they wouldn't remember him being adopted since the pair were young enough to effectively do so. They probably also did a magical spell to bond Cheryl to Jason quickly, give sibling feels without any building blocks, which is why Cheryl is so attached to him, as something probably went a little awry. Oh well, since they intended to have Cheryl marry Jason, this probably was okay to them
> 
> *That was their plan, at least, until they found a better option for Jason...but that's a secret to be revealed in 'Blood of my Blood, Flesh of my Flesh'!


	4. Fangs/Midge: Folklore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Prompt 8, or Gamemaster's Choice, I chose to do a supernatural folklore theme! Or, more specifically, the rules about what you are NEVER supposed to do if you meet a fae in the woods...and then have Fangs break ALL of them. I just love folklore. Especially urban/local legends :) 
> 
> Info to know before going in:   
> -Midge is a fae/fairy   
> -Fangs is called 'Franklin' in this story because he does not get his nickname Fangs until the start of the first chapter of 'Blood of My Blood, Flesh of My Flesh'  
> -Fangs (Franklin) and the Southside Serpents are werewolves, but at this point, Fangs has not turned nor does he know anything about his family legacy

 

From the age that Franklin Fogarty could understand anything, his aunt always told him to stay clear of Fox Forest. She would sit him on her knees, speaking about how the Forest on the other side of the tracks, the forest near where all the people with a lot of money lived, seemed to be inviting and fun, but to be wary of it always. Never go into it alone, she’d say. 

“But what about the forests behind our house” Franklin would ask. House was overstating it. The Fogarty family lived in a pair of trailers at the Sunnyside Trailer Park, backed right up to Crystal Forest and Crystal Lake. 

“Those woods are our home,” His aunt would say, rubbing his hair as she snuggled him close to her. Franklin asked about the howling he heard at night, about the big scary wolves and monsters that lived there, or so Toni had told him at school. 

“There is nothing to be scared about,” His aunt said softly, “Those wolves are not monsters and they will never hurt you. Do you know why we have wolves decorating our house?” 

Franklin shook his head, noticing for the first time that his aunt’s trailer was filled with wolves all over it. On the door, in the windows, on the blankets, as figurines on the fireplace. 

“Because to be a Fogarty is to be a wolf.” 

Franklin, who would later be called Fangs, did not understand it at the time. He assumed his aunt was making some grand statement about the strength and community wolves shared, and how it seemed to fit the people that lived in the trailer park. He thought his Aunt just really liked wolves, and they were her spirit animal, or something. 

At the time, Franklin nodded sagely, but he did not know the truth behind it at all. 

He would recall asking his father about Fox Forest. His father scratched his head and shrugged, “I don’t know why Aunt Calla told you that,” He frowned, “Besides the fact you shouldn’t be on the Northside, there’s not much scary about Fox Forest. It’s rather nice, I hear.” 

Franklin loved his father, but he worshiped his Aunt Calla. She was the best Aunt around, always reading him stories in bed and never complaining if she had to watch him. She treated him like an adult and not a stupid kid whenever he was around. She told him made-up bedtime stories of the brave wolves in the forest, wolves he’d later realize where his packmates. All the best memories Franklin had from his childhood came from Aunt Calla. 

So, for most of his life, Franklin stayed clear of Fox Forest. 

He remembered one time his father tried to take Franklin there on a picnic with some of the other trailer-park kids, and Franklin threw such a fit that his father was embarrassed about it for years after. 

Franklin would not go into the forest. 

That is, until he was 10.

When Franklin was ten years old, his Aunt Calla had a daughter. When he was 10, his Aunt was rushed to the hospital in a big siren with loud noises, and Franklin heard his dad crying, saying there was too much blood. When Franklin was 10, his father lost his sister. When Franklin was 10, Aunt Calla died to bring his cousin Delilah into the world. 

The only other thing he remembers from that awful day was that FP Jones suddenly appeared. FP was akin to a celebrity; Franklin had only ever seen him give orders and look important. He patted Franklin’s shoulder apologetically, before vanishing into the room his aunt had just died in. 

He was in there a long time. 

After that, life became worse. His Aunt’s trailer had to be sold and Delilah moved in with his father. 

He knew it wasn’t the baby’s fault, but he sort of started to resent her. Resent her for taking his Aunt way, for making his dad tired and grumpy, for being thrown into their lives and shaking it all up.

One of the days in which Delilah would just not stop crying, and his father was too frazzled to notice Franklin sulking, Franklin took ran out of the house and all the way to Fox Forest. 

It was a nice park. The park behind the trailers was misty and dark, where this one was green and rest and full of light. On a playground near the entrance, a group of well-dressed children laughed on swings and monkey bars. Franklin felt very out of place in his hand-me-down shirts and shoes. A girl with blonde hair smiled at him, and he thought she might ask him to play. Before she could, her mother was shooing her away from him. The woman’s face was pulled into a deep frown and when she looked at Franklin, it was like she was looking at a cockroach. 

Franklin, feeling unwanted, started sulking into the woods. 

He made it just as far into where he could no longer see the playground when Franklin heard the music. 

_ ( one; do not follow the music or dance in a fairy ring) _

The most beautiful music Franklin had ever heard, coming from deeper into the woods. It was alluring and lighthearted and took his breath away. 

Franklin weaved through the moss-covered trees, letting his feet take him. His mind had shut off all functions except to find the source of this music. 

Had he been paying attention, he would have realized how far he was going. How deep it was. How he did not know where he was and he would have remembered how very large the forest was. He would have been more afraid. 

He was not. He felt nothing but a euphoria, as brilliant as a shooting star. 

The trees cleared suddenly, revealing a grassy grove, with blades tickling along his ankles. There, in the middle of the grass was a girl. 

She was about his age; dark brown hair tumbled over her shoulders in slightly messy curles. Her cheeks were flushed a shade of pink that one may see on a flower. Upon her head wrapped a wreath of daisies. She was barefoot, twirling and spinning to the music that seemed to echo all around the trees. The sound bounced off the bark, off the leaves, whispering to Franklin to come closer. 

As he approached, he noticed a little circle of toadstools that dotted in a near-perfect circle, all around where the girl was swaying. Lightning bugs buzzed around Franklin, despite it was daylight out, and there seemed to be a shimmering ethereal glimmer dusted over everything. 

“Where is that music coming from?” Franklin asked.

The girl stopped dancing, eyes wide, staring at Franklin. 

He hadn’t meant to scare her. 

“It’s so pretty, but I don’t see any speakers,” He continued softly. 

The girl titled her head, her full lips pouting out. 

“Well, part of it comes from me,” She said. The music was still humming like cicadas in the back of Franklin’s mind, but yes, the main melody had stopped. The girl had a small flute in her fingers, and when she lifted it to her lips, the same utterly enchanting music began to weave around him again. Her feet began to tap again, and soon she was spinning in a circle, the tune rising and falling with her movements. 

“Why are you dancing?” Franklin asked when she’d given a pause. She giggled. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” 

He considered it. Then, he smiled, “Can I join you?” 

The girl blinked a couple times, as though greatly surprised by his offer. She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. 

“You want to join me?” 

“It looks so fun. Unless you don’t want me too,” Franklin mumbled, kicking a pebble with his toe. 

The girl looked around carefully before offering out a dainty palm. Franklin grabbed it. She tugged him into the circle.

An impish grin graced her lips as she started twirling around him, playing a slightly faster melody than before. Franklin didn’t know why he wanted to dance; he was awful at it. But, being here with this girl, made him a better dancer. Or something.

Soon, he was spinning around with her just as fast, laughing so hard his sides hurt. 

( _ two; do not tell a fairy your full name) _

“What can I call you?” Franklin breathed out over the music. 

The girl stopped, and she hummed for a second. There seemed to be a great deliberation on her part. 

“Midge. You can call me Midge.” 

“That’s a pretty name,” Franklin said, and watched a small blush rise over her cheeks, “Do you have a last name?” 

“It’s nothing you need to know,” She said back with an authoritative sort of way, one that gave Franklin pause. 

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” he said. They’d been friends for all of ten minutes. Yes, it must be weird for him to be wanting her last name, especially since she had not given it to him. 

Midge grabbed his hands, and instantly, he danced with her. Not on his own, but with her, like some sort of really cool dude that had girls that liked him. 

“I’m Franklin Fo-,” 

“You don’t have to tell me your full name.” Midge interrupted him, a flash of worry across her face. 

“I don’t mind. I’m a nobody. Franklin Fogarty. I don’t like my name,” He explained, pulling a face. 

“I think that’s a nice name.” She said. 

Franklin shook his head, “You’re just saying that. I don’t have a good nickname either. Frankie is just bad. Lin too. My middle name is Clive. Franklin Clive Fogarty. I sound like I was named after an old man. Yuck.” 

A smile spread across Midge’s face, “Franklin Clive Fogarty,” she echoed. When she said it, the trees vibrated and chills went over his arms, “I don’t mind it.” 

“Well I do.” Franklin said stubbornly, “Midge is a cool name. Mine isn’t.” 

“There are power in names, though.” Midge said, but it sounded like she was parroting back something an adult had told her. Franklin recalled his Aunt, and how he would repeat back verbatim some of her most valuable wisdom. His mood was darkened immediately. 

_ ( three; do not mention a newborn at home) _

“Why are you frowning?” 

“My aunt is dead,” Franklin said, crossing his arms and slumping his shoulders, “I just really miss her. She only died two months ago.” 

Midge’s eyes watered, “I’m sorry, Franklin.” 

“She had a baby. Died delivering it. Delilah is cute, I guess, but she’s loud and annoying and she’s not my Aunt Calla.” 

“A newborn?” Midge repeated, her interest piquing. 

“Uh-huh. My dad takes care of her now. Always taking care of her. He probably hasn’t even noticed I’m gone.” Franklin angrily kicked a tree trunk. Midge got a furious look on her face. 

“Don’t kick a tree! What has it ever done to you!” She demanded. 

“I’m just upset,” Franklin said, feeling a little stupid. 

“Well, apologize.” Midge commanded. 

“What?” 

“Apologize to the tree. It has feelings, you know.” 

Franklin blinked a Midge, trying to figure out if she was serious. She was.

_ ( four; always be very, very polite) _

“Apologizing to a tree is really stupid.” Franklin said, “It’s not like a human!” 

“Is not!” Midge stomped her little foot. 

“It totally is!” Franklin sputtered, looking up at the tree. A tree that clearly wasn’t coming to life and kicking his ass. 

Midge kicked Franklin hard on the shin. 

“What was that for?” He demanded. 

“So you don’t like it when someone kicks you. How hypocritical.” Midge said, only stumbling a little over the large word. 

“I’m a human! Of course I don’t like being kicked! You’re crazy.” He said honestly, eyes widening. 

Midge took a step back, her lip quivering. Her eyes seemed so large, her hair flying around her like a halo. Her knees and elbows were stained with dirt and she did look sort of mad standing there like that. But also, inexplicably, beautiful. 

A fat tear rolled down her cheek. 

Franklin felt awful immediately. 

“Damn it, I’m sorry. I’m just really angry about my aunt. You’re not crazy. I should be nicer.” He murmured. It was refreshing for a girl to care so much about a tree. He didn’t think anyone at Sunnyside would be so kind. Trees were living, he considered. 

“Look, I’m sorry tree,” He said very seriously and genuinely, patting the tree he’d attacked. 

Midge sniffled, wiping her eyes. 

“You said a bad word,” She said quietly. 

Franklin winced. 

“It’s a bad habit, my teachers say. Look, I really...I didn’t...are we friends?” He asked, for some reason, fearing beyond all else losing the comaonishp with this strange girl. 

Midge rubbed the bark of the tree like she was calming a dog. 

“Yes, we’re still friends,” She said plainly, like it had never been in question. She grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the toadstools and the clearing. 

“Where are we going?” He asked. 

“One of my favorite places to go,” Midge replied back. She took him through the trees, her feet confident like she’d walked these woods a thousand times before. It seemed like hours but also seconds before she was tugging him into an area right up near the River. There was a little spring and waterfall, just big enough for a pair of ten-year-olds to get into some mischief in. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Midge asked, running past Franklin and leaping into the water. Franklin didn’t need more urging. He hopped out of his shoes, threw off his flannel, and dived in. He splashed through the creek, dunking his head under the waterfall. Midge’s eyes sparkled as she shoved him under the water. Franklin retaliated by splashing her obnoxiously. 

They stayed in the water for a long time. It was only when Franklin started feeling a chill that he dragged himself onto the banks. 

(  _ five; don’t give a fairy any clothing, especially if it’s cheap) _

Midge followed after a second, her long hair matted against her face. She shoved the curtain of bangs back, scratching out some mud and washing off her skin. It was all for naught, because in a second, she pulled herself back through the mud next to Franklin. 

The only other girl he’d ever met with such a nonchalant attitude toward mud was Toni. This girl seemed to love the earth, though, whereas Toni just didn’t mind it. 

Midge was shivering a little. The sun was obscured by clouds, and although it was a warm summer’s day, it was a little bit chilly now. 

Without a pause, Franklin offered her his flannel. 

“You don’t-,” Midge began, sounding slightly agitated, but Franklin just shoved it onto her lap. 

“It’s fine. You need it more.” He insisted. Midge picked uncertainty at the fabric, a weird look on her face. 

She looked at a tear near the shoulder, face twisting. 

Franklin suddenly felt very self conscious, “It’s not great quality,” he mumbled, “All I an afford. Not even new when I got it. My Aunt used to patch the holes, but…” He bit his palm to keep from crying. Everything reminded him of her. 

Midge was still just staring at it. 

“One day, I’ll be rich and be able to afford $100 flannels, if I want,” Franklin continued, sighing as he imagined more prosperous days. 

Midge was carefully sliding it on. On her lithe frame, it seemed to swallow her. 

_ ( six; do not accept a gift from a fairy; you’ll owe them a favor and they can ask for anything) _

They laid on the banks until the sun streamed through the leaves, dappling their skin. Franklin talked about his trailer park and his family and his friends at school. Midge talked about her friends too and her home. 

Part-way through, he noticed Midge’s fingers twining flowers together in a chain. 

“‘Nother flower crown?” He asked. Midge gave a nod. She was really good at those. 

“Super pretty,” He said, watching how efficiently Midge was able to make a pile of flowers into something functional. 

She finished one with little field flowers and got a curled grin across her face. She darted up, setting it on Franklin’s head. 

“For you,” She said simply. 

“I cant take this,” franklin said, carefully patting his head as not to ruin the flowers. 

“Why, because you’re a guy and guys don’t wear flowers?” Midge scowled. 

“No! Because of all the work you put into it,” Franklin said. Yes, the guys would have eaten him alive if they saw him wearing this, but it was just him and Midge. Plus, it was perhaps the nicest thing someone had given him. 

“Well, I still want you to have it,” Midge said. 

Franklin didn’t want to argue with her again. Plus, it made him feel special. 

“Okay.” 

_ ( seven; don’t eat any fairy food or fairy wine) _

Midge got up from where she was sitting cross legged on the ground. She still had Franklin’s flannel over her shoulders, and she shoved up the sleeves like she’d owned it forever. She went behind a rock, pulling out a little cooler. 

“I come here everyday. I brought food out two days ago,” She said by way of explanation, “It’s nice to just think here.” 

“I can see that.” Franklin was already feeling so much calmer. 

She offered him a packet of Ritz crackers. He tore open the plastic, hungrily starting to devour it. Midge was watching him with surprise, her hands half-way in the cooler. 

“Sorry, I’m bein’ rude,” Franklin mumbled through a mouthful of crackers, “I just...money’s tight at home. I don’t get a lot of food always.” 

Midge looked horrified, “But...you…” She said, staring to more frantically take out food. 

“I don’t want to eat all of your food,” He said, feeling bad for telling her. 

“I have lots of food at home. Lots.” Midge said firmly. She shoved a small haul toward him, “Eat it all, please.” 

It was a lot that Franklin recognized, lots of snacks he’d only had once or twice in his life. He did notice, however, a small cake looking thing that Midge had not given him. He didn’t mean to be ungrateful, but he was curious. Midge saw his look. 

“My mum’s summer cakes. She makes them the best,” She said, but held it close to her, “If you have some of this, other food will never taste as good again.” 

“Your mom must be some amazing cook,” Franklin chuckled, thinking she was making a grand joke. 

“Something like that.” Midge said, “You sure you want to try some?”

“Uh, yeah?” Why would Franklin ever turn down cake. 

Midge tore off a corner of it, brushing the crumbs into his hand.

Fangs popped it into his mouth. 

“I think I’m in love,” he moaned. Midge gave a weak laugh. 

“I told you.” 

It tasted indescribably good. Was this what things tasted like when you had good materials, Franklin wondered. He could eat that forever and never grow tired of it. 

“Wow,” he breathed, “Is that what god tastes like?” 

Midge gave a tiny smile, but it was timid, “I think it’s alright. It’s always others that think it’s the best thing since sliced bread.” 

Fangs shrugged, going back to his flaming hot Doritos. Midge was right. After having that, eating the once very tasty Doritos sort of tasted more like hot cardboard now. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it wasn’t a good taste. Luckily, by the time he’d finished the food in front of him, it was back to almost-normal taste. 

“Really?” Midge seemed surprised when he mentioned this to her. 

“Yeah, not bad. I mean, I don’t think anything could trump that cake, but…” He licked the dust from the food off his fingers, “Maybe I ate too much too fast.” 

Midge seemed not to have an answer. She was examining him with far too scrutinizing of a look. 

_ ( eight; never say thank you. You will be in their debt) _

The day was waning. Franklin knew it must have been hours he was out here. His father was probably wondering where he was. He felt bad for getting so emotional. 

“I should get back.” He said. 

Midge almost looked like she was going to say no. He didn’t think he could find the way out of the woods himself. Then, as though one part of herself had lost a battle with another, Midge sighed. 

“I’ll take you home.” 

She took him back to the circle of toadstools. There, once the pair were standing inside, she began to shrug off the flannel. 

“You can keep it,” Franklin said, feeling his cheeks redden. 

“But...you must not have a lot,” Midge said, touched. 

“I don’t. Looks better on you anyway.” He insisted. Midge brought the sleeves to her nose, inhaling and nodding. Franklin touched his head to assure that the flower crown was still there. 

“Midge, thank you.” Franklin said. 

Midge shook her head hard. 

“Don’t thank me,” She whimpered, a tinge of desperation coloring her voice. 

“But I need to. I’m glad I ran into you today.”

Midge seemed emotional, though he didn’t know what, and before he could ask, she was throwing her arms around him. He’d never hugged a girl that wasn’t family. This felt...this felt nice. He liked it. He hugged back. 

Midge reached up, placing her palms on the temples of his forehead. 

And then, Franklin didn’t remember anything. 

When he woke up, he was in his bedroom. He stumbled to the living room to see his dad watching the TV on mute, Delilah nestled in his arm. 

“Dad...I’m sorry I just vanished like that.” Franklin said, rubbing his eyes. He felt like he’d been asleep for weeks. 

“What are you talking about?” His dad asked, frowning, “I saw you an hour ago. At dinner.” 

“No, before dinner,” Franklin said, feeling weird. Off. 

“Before dinner you helped me with Delilah. You were a good boy today, Frankie.” 

Franklin winced at his much hated nickname. 

“It’s Saturday today, isn’t it?” 

His dad was giving him a funny look. 

“Yes?” 

“Ok. Uhm, never mind,” Franklin mumbled, heading back to his room. 

So, he thought, it had been a dream. It had to have been. He spent the whole day with Midge but somehow also was home? Yes, just a very vivid after-dinner dream. 

That is, until he realized he couldn’t find his flannel, the one he’d ‘given’ Midge in his dream. 

As he was ransacking his drawers, in his bedside table, he found a flower crown. 

The music echoed in his mind once more, like a memory long forgotten. 

Franklin would look for Midge in the forest many times again, but never find her. He would not find her until he’d almost convinced himself it was merely a dream, six years later, when he wore a different name and a different skin. 

_ ( if you do any of these things, a fairy might own you forever) _

The day that Franklin spent with Midge, she returned to her house that was right inside the boundaries of the forest. She washed her face in the sink, creeped past her mother in the kitchen, and closed her bedroom door. She breathed into the flannel, heart beating fast.

Then, before her parents saw, she would shove the flannel under her bed, only to be taken out when she truly was feeling down. She would put a spell on it so it would never lose the smell of Franklin, even after years had passed. 

Her mother called her to dinner.

Midge came dutifully, a fae’s meal wafting through the house. She was starved. 

“Did you do anything fun today?” Her mother asked, rubbing her head. 

“Just played with the woods, like usual,” Midge replied. 

“I saw you with a boy,” Her mother said, causing Midge to stiffen, “Happen to catch his name at all?” 

There was a dangerous look in her mother’s eyes. Midge knew what she was  _ supposed  _ to do; tell her mother about how silly this boy had been, how he’d walked almost willingly into all the fairy traps there could be. Her heart clenched as she thought of doing that, and for the first time ever, found she could not. 

“No,” She lied easily, “he was smart enough not to tell me anything. He didn’t dance with me in the fairy ring, he didn’t eat any food, he didn’t let me give him anything. Someone has told him of our ways, I guess.” 

Her mother pouted a bit, sighing, “Kids these days are getting smarter.” She murmured, shaking her head tragically, “Our culture is vanishing. I know you probably tried your best, though, bunny.” 

“Of course I did,” Midge said, though the words twisted in her stomach, “But he was smarter.” 

“Shame,” her father said, speaking up, and Midge started eating before they asked any more questions. 

For his safety, she could not see him again. She liked him a little too much already. 

_ Franklin Clive Fogarty,  _ she would whisper in the night, wishing for her friend back,  _ Franklin, you have no idea what you’ve done. You stupid, infuriating, kind, honest, wonderful boy.  _

She almost wished she’d never met him. But in truth, she didn’t. Not at all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is all of your favorite urban or local folklore legend? In Wisconsin, up north, we have this thing called a Hodag. It's like a weird...crocodile loch-ness monster thing that apparently lives in a lake up there! 
> 
> At this point, I am halfway through the 8 challenges! I have one other couple FOR SURE down pat to write next, which is an Archie x Josie pairing. I BELIEVE that the last three couples I'm doing are Veronica/Reggie, Cheryl/Toni, and Sweet Pea/Betty...but I'm not 100% on any of those, mostly because I still need to brainstorm which themes will go with which couples. So, if there is a couple you desperately want to see, drop a line, and I might decide to do that instead!


	5. Archie/Josie: Heat/Mating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes places s3/book 3! Things to know is that Archie is a 'Grimm' (or, someone who although is a human has insider knowledge given by ancestors), Josie is a siren (more like a murderous mermaid than a cute Ariel), Betty and Cheryl are witches. Jughead also appears, and is a werewolf, but that's not pertient to this story. 
> 
> I decided to try my hand at a mating/in heat cycled story! I seriously love Archoise. I always tolerated Varchie on the show, didn't hate it didn't love it, but tbh I ADORE Archoise. I know that Josie will be leaving and that it seems Archie and V are getting back together, and that seriously bums me out because I think that Archie and Josie have one of the best relationships. Siiiigh. At least there's always fanfiction, amiright?

Archie camped out on Josie’s lawn for _eons._

Well, that wasn’t quite true, he admits.

He didn’t really camp out, but he did sit on her porch. It was a very nice porch, to be honest, with a swinging bench and flowers. He also wasn’t there for eons, though it felt like it. It was four hours, which was a lot of time when you’re a teenager.

Archie hadn’t seen or heard from Josie in three days. Not a glimpse at school, not a message on his phone, not even a weird Snapchat posted or a vague Instagram. No, it’s like Josie had fallen off the face of the earth.

Of course he was concerned. He’d been concerned day 1. But he hadn’t wanted to seem overly-concerned, since he and Josie weren’t even defined as anything specific, but three days was past his limit.

No one seemed to be home. But, they had to be home eventually, right? He didn't really have football to occupy him right now, and to be honest he hadn’t been able to focus on anything since mid day 2, so he had to make sure she was still alive.

In this town, that was a less ridiculous concern than one may think.

After 4.5 hours, during which time Archie had been reduced to watching weird YouTube videos to occupy his time, someone finally answered the door.

“Cheryl?” He blinked twice, “What are you…”

“I think a better question is what are you doing here?” She asked, shutting the door behind her, arms crossed and shoulders squared.

“I’m Josie’s…” Archie made a vague arm movement. Josie would kill him if he said boyfriend, since she did not want to use that term.

“Amour, perhaps?” Cheryl supplied, tilting her head. It wasn’t a secret, but they weren’t announcing it to the world either.

Archie wasn’t 100% sure of the word’s meaning, but it sounded like love, so yeah, probably that. He nodded a couple times.

“I haven’t heard anything from her in three days. She’s alright, right?”

“She’s ok,” Cheryl agreed, “But it will probably be a couple days before you see her again.”

“What, she sick?” Archie asked, his hands growing clammy. He frowned, worried.

“I suppose one could say that,” Cheryl twirled her hair.

“Can’t I see her?” Archie asked, staring to pace.

Cheryl looked almost sorry for him, “Oh, Archie…” She sighed.

In a flash, he got it. Or, got the very basics of it, “This is something magical, isn’t it?” He began to ransack his brain. Had there been something written about a magical illness for sirens? For magical creatures? He scowled, trying to flip through the book mentally. He’d read everything involving sirens after his and Josie’s first kiss. No surprises. He was drawing blanks. If there was some magical influenza, he was sure his family books would have mentioned it. They probably would have been fucking gleeful about it.

“Oh look, you’re learning,” Cheryl crooned in a completely patronizing voice. Archie shrugged her off, as he’d done his whole life.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I don’t think that the book-,”

He was cut off by Cheryl’s sharp laughter.

“Your little Boy Scout's Guide for Satan won’t tell you anything about _this_ ,” She managed to choke out, “Really, it’s better if you just go home. Josie will be right as rain by next Friday.”

Archie considered his choices. He could try to take Cheryl on in a fight. He could probably win, if she didn’t have some spells up her sleeve...which she probably did. He could yell in, and hope Josie could answer. Or…

He nodded, shrugging, “Okay, well, uh, can you tell her I came by?”

Cheryl leaned forward, patting his cheek, “Maybe,” She said, but from her tone, he doubted she would. Fine, whatever.

As soon as Cheryl had vanished back into the McCoy’s house, Archie was scrutinizing the structure.

He knew which was Josie’s bedroom from a visit to the house a long time ago, so he hoped she hadn’t changed the location in the past handful of years. Even if he was wrong, it would at least get him into the house. A better plan could be made as he always did- on the fly.

Archie knew that Romeo and Juliet was totally Jughead and Betty’s thing, but he really felt like he was in fair Verona as he climbed up the treliace to the McCoy’s second story. He’d never been awful at the rope in gym, but coming into his Grimm powers had only heightened his ability to shove himself up strange objects, so it took little time to climb it. Then, it was a matter of getting inside. He may have broken a latch, but oops, he’d fix that later.

He cussed as soon as his feet hit the carpet. This wasn’t Josie’s room anymore. Or, it wasn’t where she currently was. As he glanced around, he realized this probably _was_ Josie’s bedroom, from the posters on the wall to the sheets of music scattered on the ground. He could take this time to examine her room, as he was curious to what it held, but the most important item in this room was missing; Josie.

Archie could hear her as soon as he stepped into the hallway. She was in a bedroom down the hall.

Archie had only gotten a step toward his destination when he was shoved rather violently into what looked like a guest-room.

“You’re incorrigible,” Cheryl sighed.

“Thanks?”

Cheryl’s lip quirked down, and she scowled at him. Archie was glad she was a witch and not a Medusa or something, because god, if looks could kill…

“Now that you’re up here, Josie will smell you and it will be a whole thing,” Cheryl pinched the bridge of her nose, “You have no idea how much more difficult you’ve made this.”

“Then tell me,” Archie said firmly, “I’m going to see her, gottit?” He added sourly.

“It’s almost cute,” Cheryl said, but her words didn’t match her tone, “Josie is...in heat.”

Archie blinked. He scratched his head. He titled his skull, and then decided, yes...he had heard Cheryl right.

“Like...a dog?” He asked carefully. Cheryl snorted.

“You looking to get slapped?”

“I’m just trying to understand!” Archie held up his hands, shrugging helplessly, “I didn’t think sirens went into heat. Water-vampires, that’s what I’ve been told. And heat equals kids, but a vampire is dead so no kids for them, so…”

“I can physically see your pitiful neurons trying to think and it hurts me,” Cheryl winced, “Does Josie seem dead to you?”

Archie felt like this was a trap, he just didn’t know how, “No.”

“Right. She’s not. She’s alive. Sirens may share a lot of similarities between vampires, but they’re not. If they were vampires who just had a penchant for swimming, we’d just call sirens aquatic vampires. But we don’t.”

“Oh.” Archie echoed, because he didn't know what else to say.

“It happens every year. Lasts a week, and then she’s fine,” Cheryl sighed, “She just spends a week watching Hallmark movies and becoming very well-acquainted with her vibrator.”

The implication caused a bright blush to spread over Archie’s cheeks, though he wasn't sure why. He wasn’t a blushing virgin.

“It’s alright, though?”

“It’s not _fun_ , duh. She’s on-edge the entire week because her body knows it’s not the real sort of thing, but she manages. It’s like a really shitty period. Women just learn to deal.” Cheryl said slowly, like he was an idiot. Hell, maybe he was.

“Well can I help?”

Cheryl squinted at him, “Look, it would be better for you to just go home.”

“You said it yourself. I’m her amorous.”

“You mean amour?” Cheryl asked. Archie sort of shrugged. Yeah, that sounded more correct, “Great devils, I-,” She seemed to be considering it.

“It’s not like binding or anything, is it?” Archie thought to ask, for maybe this is why Josie hadn’t contacted him.

“No, gosh no. Just...erg, wait there.” She commanded with a well-manicured finger.

Archie waited, albeit impatiently.

Cheryl seemed to be gone a good long time. Archie almost thought she’d just left him, pulled one over on him. It was a half an hour before she returned.

“Despite all my wise protests, Josie has unbelievably chosen _you_ of all people to go through this week with,” Cheryl breathed out, “Which, let em tell you, with her siren song, she could get literally anyone. And she chose you. I’d say be honored, but I’m half afraid mid-spring madness has taken over,” Cheryl gave a visible shudder.

“Hey!” Archie snapped, rising from a slouch, “If I remember, you kissed me once! Attacked me, more specifically.”

Cheryl’s lip twitched, having clearly forgotten. She cleared her throat, waving a hand, “Momentary lapse of judgement,” She said, though her voice was strained.

“Well, good thing it’s not up to you,” Archie said firmly, “It’s up to Josie. And she wants _me_.” Archie would never tell Cheryl this, but to have this sort of confirmation made him feel warm and tingly inside. It was always nice to be wanted.

“As established, a poor choice. Regardless.” Cheryl seemed to be settling to terms, “Come back here tomorrow after school.”

“Why not right now?”

“Well, you need to get protection.”

Archie gave a strangled half-laugh, “Oh, I mean, I have condoms in my backpack. Always.” His father had been...unflinchingly honest about what it would be like for Archie to have a kid right around now, and he definitely did not want that. Even if Veronica couldn’t have gotten pregnant, he still had them, just to make himself feel better. He’d always used them with Josie too. Archie, in general, always wanted to be prepared.

“Oh, I almost feel sorry for you. If I were my older self, I’d just let you in there with only that. You’d surely be a father, but luckily, I also like Josie enough to not condemn her to teenage pregnancy.” Cheryl signed impatiently, “She’s in heat because of procreation urges. Duh. And Magic, when it wants a baby, will give you a baby if you only rely on human things.”

“But-,”

“Exhibit a and b; my niece and nephew. Exhibit c; Chic. Exhibit d; Sweet Pea-,”

“Okay! I get it.” Archie held up his hands, “Where do I get it, exactly?”

“Betty knows,” Cheryl said simply, “Witches have been making magic-resistant contraceptives for centuries.”

“You're a witch, though?” Archie murmured, not sure if he wanted to tell Betty what he was doing. Not that he though Betty was a virgin. She was like his sister and the idea of going to say he needed birth control for magical, animalistic sex was not high on his lists of desires.

“Oh, give the boy a prize,” Cheryl said deadpanned, “I’m not as skilled in potions. Need your memory removed? Done. Need a cat raised from the dead? No problem...potions, though…” She scowled, “I mean, I can chance it, but I won’t guarantee-,”

“I get it. We want 100%. Betty.”

“Have fun with that one. We’ll see you back here in 24 hours.”

XXxxXX

24 hours later, Archie was back on the porch.

Going to Betty had been less mortifying than he’d imagined. He’d fumbled to explain it all, and Betty had just blinked at him.

“At least you’re being safe,” She’d said with a proud nod. She hadn’t even needed to make more; turns out, she had a little stash in that weird picture frame magical hole, just waiting for someone like Archie to ask.

Archie prefered to think that she distributed it to the wolfpack, and that it wasn’t in a stockpile for her own sexual desires with his best bud, Jughead. Well, high-five to him, Archie guessed, and maybe if it was just some random bird Archie would be asking Juggie for the good details, but he really didn’t want to know about how Betty was in bed. Point of it was, Archie didn’t want to think too hard about why it was pre-made.

When he asked if it was 100%, Betty had given a sly smile, “No one has gotten pregnant while using it, if that answers your question.”

Man, was he glad she hadn’t said _I_ haven’t gotten pregnant.

He was getting distracted.

Honestly, he was nervous. He didn’t know what to expect. His journals hadn’t said anything about this. He had a feeling it, in some ways, was obvious. A insert into B and yada-yada. But he could be wrong.

Every time he’d had sex with Josie, it had been when they were both more human than not. He got the acute feeling Josie would be more a siren than a girl. It should have sent him running the other direction. Strangely, it turned him on?

All things considered, it wasn’t the worst reaction.

Cheryl drove him out to the river. Said it was traditional for sirens to mate in lakes. Since they came from mermaids of old, Archie got this. He’d had sex in a lot of wet places before, but never a river. Cross it off his new-experiences bucket list, right?

“We’ve already warded the area so that no one will see you,” Cheryl told him, kicking him out of the car unceremoniously, “Last thing you want is Keller busting your ass for public indecency.”

This, Archie had to admit, was also true.

Josie was waiting for him on the shores. She didn’t look like her siren skin was on. She looked human.

Cheryl left very quickly. Good.

“Hey,” Archie said, coughing and waving a little. They’d never specifically planned out times to have sex. It always had come naturally between them. Did he start stripping now? Did he wait for her? Should they get in the water? Should-

“Do you have the potion?” Josie luckily took charge. Archie took out two vials. One person could take it, and it would be effective, but it was better if both did. He chugged the strangely glowing blue concoction in one gulp. Hmm, tasted like oranges. That was unexpected.

“So...how do we…” Archie waved a hand.

“Don’t worry about it half as much as you already are,” Josie murmured, “Mating is natural, Andrews.”

“Right, sure.” Archie gave a jerky nod. It hadn’t really helped. Josie flashed a smile, coming up and leading him toward the water. Archie toed his shoes off, leaving them on the banks, near his backpack.

Once they were knee-deep in, Josie leaned up, kissing him deeply. Her hands were warm all over his body, as compared to the coolness they usually held, diving underneath his shirt to rub against his firm muscles. Archie cupped her face, doing exactly as Josie had told him to do. Just let go and feel.

When about to have sex, this was all to easy for Archie to do.

“Should I?” Archie breathed, starting to take his shirt off.

“Not here, boo. Too public.” Josie paused to breathe.

“Then…?”

She shot him a wicked grin. She kissed him once more; a deep, longing, rising kiss that made him weak at the knees.

“Trust me.” She said, her tone cryptic. Before Archie could even question what she meant by that, she was diving under the water, her grip tight on Archie’s fingers. He was pulled under too.

For a second, he panicked, believing he couldn’t breathe. Then, somehow, he just...did. It wasn’t like he had gills or something strange, but he was breathing just fine under the water. Convinced he wasn’t going to drown, he let Josie lead him through Sweetwater, until they came to a part he hadn’t seen before. The banks was more like an inlet, surrounded by rocks and high trees. He doubted anyone would see them here, but even if they were to stumble across this oasis, he could feel the brush of magic over his skin as they passed through a ward. It tickled and raised the hair up on his arm.

“Wow, how did you do that?” Archie gulped in air.

“A siren’s kiss can save a drowning man, at least for a little bit,” Josie winked, “Now…”

She turned her eyes on Archie, and he could see that she’d been holding back. Now that they were in a secluded place, heat was spiking off her body, magic thrumming around her so clearly that Archie wondered why he hadn’t seen it before. She pushed him back, gently, into the shallows. He sat up on his elbows, staring up at her, small waves washing over his legs and midriff.

She wasn’t in full siren skin, but as she sun shone on her skin, he could see the way her skin was glittering in illuminescent shades of green and silver, giving her a seaworthy glow. Her eyes had turned a little bit golden, and when she grinned, the tips of her incisors were pointed.

“Damn,” Archie whispered, giving a wolfish grin. He hurried to throw his top off, up onto the banks somewhere. Josie followed suit, taking off her swimsuit top.

Archie’s hands were at her breasts immediately, kneading the soft skin and running his thumbs across her nipples. He wasn’t sure if pleasing a siren was any different than a human. So far, he hadn’t gotten any complaints.

“Archibald, mhh,” Josie murmured, coming forward to sit on his lap, riding her pelvis into his. She kissed him again, and for a second, Archie forgot all of his thoughts.

His hand went back to push himself forward, digging into the soft sand beneath him.

“Ow,” He snapped, followed by a cuss word. He lifted his palm to see a thin slice across his palm, probably from a shell or rock. It was welling with blood, and he was about to say ‘fuck it’ and continue, until Josie reached for his hand.

She caught his eyes as she wrapped her tongue around his thumb, and then licked her way down. Archie could feel the way her fangs dipped into his flesh, but did not break it.

She sucked on his hand, moaning as she did so.

Archie had dated Veronica, a vampire, so he wasn’t new to this sort of blood fascination, or the sounds Veronica had made tasting him like this. It had been one of his biggest turn ons, having never felt more connected to her than in those moments. This was no different.

“You like that?” He asked, feeling emboldened to run his lips along her throat, biting down a little. Veronica had always enjoyed it, him _pretending_ to be another vampire, and from the squeak and shudder, so did Josie.

“Oh, gods, you taste so good,” She said drawing back with more restraint than expected, licking her lips.

“You can have more, I don’t mind,” Archie whispered, grasping her waist, digging her into him.

“Mhh, maybe,” She said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it,” Archie replied confidently, “Just tell me what you need.”

Josie didn’t as so much tell him as show him, ripping his shorts down his legs and shoving him up so that when he was lying down, just his head was out of the water. She did away with her bottoms as well. Archie was about to go in for some more foreplay, but she sat right over him.

She was impossibly wet already, until Archie recalled she’d already spent the last three days in a haze of lust and being insatitionably turned-on.

Archie himself wasn't sure how long he’d last. He never could hold out long when he was sheathed naked inside a woman, even adding in his stamina he got from his Grimm ancestry. And god; Josie felt so good, so incredibly tight and warm and the way she was making sounds that made Archie feel like some sort of a sex god.

She was also taking the lead. In their previous adventures together, neither one nor the other took charge, instead seeking pleasure on both ends. Not this; Josie was riding him and moving his hands to exactly where she wanted them to be.

Archie didn’t mind; hell, he loved it. He had told Josie to do what she needed to do. By extension, Archie was getting more and more turned on. His life seemed flush of strong women. It wasn’t all too surprising Archie may or may not enjoy being dominated from time to time. He wasn’t sure if it was the heat or her more wild side coming out, but if their relationship survived this, Archie would be incredibly open to delving deeper into this role-play.

This was, of course, all thoughts Archie would have later on.

In the moment? Archie couldn’t have spelled his own name, much less had such complex reflections.

“Don’t I need to,” Archie groaned, his fingers creeping between her parted legs, wanting to make sure that Josie was having the best experience, “You know?”

“Usually, I’d say yes,” Josie slowed down enough to be able to press her sweaty forehead to Archie’s, kissing his lip and ending it with a nip, enough to draw blood. Her body shivered as she took in a bit more of his blood, “But the point of my heat is being fulfilled, so I’ll get off just from this,” She rolled her hips, leaning down on him.

“Oh, ffff-,” Archie hissed, gripping her ass, kneading the soft brown skin, pushing her body further onto his.

“Just like that, mhhm,” Josie said, “Arch, I’m close.”

“Yeah, me too,” Archie croaked out. He’d been close for a while now, but hadn’t wanted to finish before Josie did. Relief flooded his bones as together they worked toward the precipice of their mutual release.

Archie started to yank Josie up; he was careful not to come inside a girl, and even on a potion, he wasn’t sure he could allow himself to be too lost as not to.

“No,” Josie squeezed her thighs around his legs, “I’ll only get off and feel better if you come inside me,” She instructed, her cheeks pinking.

“But-,”

“We’re safe, I promise.” Josie said, drawing back enough to give Archie a soft, reassuring look, “Can I...it’s also better for me if I...bite you while…”

“Yes, of course,” Archie said, his skin raising and prickling at the thought of her teeth in his flesh. It made him more excited than it naturally should have.

Josie helped Archie to a sitting position, still seated on his lap, so that she could knot her fingers in his hair and increase her speed.

“Cum, Archie, please,” She asked, breathless, “Fill me.”

Archie groaned as a shudder passed through him, and boneless he started to collapse. Josie held him up, squeaking and biting down on the juncture between his shoulder and neck as her body quaked with her own end. She lavished her tongue over his skin as they both rode out the pleasure, Archie’s fingers twineing in her hair. When she pulled back, blood dripped down his shoulder, dissolving into the gentle ripples of the water. It was of no consequence; he knew it would heal up on it’s own soon.

He flopped back, panting. Josie slid off of him, grinning.

“Feel better?” He asked, turning toward her.

“Yeah, a bit.” Josie said, “I have some food. We should eat. The heat will be back in a couple hours. And we’ll have to go through it again.”

Archie chuckled, pulling her in for a sweet kiss.

“Yeah, I think I’m okay with that.”

XXxxXX

“Hey, Betty! You seen Archie anywhere?”

Betty poked her head over the couch, waving to Polly.

“What do you need Archie for?” Betty asked, swinging her legs over the other side of the couch, coming to stand beside her elder sister.

“Your nephew is doing something strange,” Polly sighed, hoisting the baby on her hip, “Nothing to be worried about, but I thought it was a magical side-effect. So I asked Sweet Pea, but he had no idea, so he said that maybe Archie had some writing it about it somewhere.”

Betty frowned, tilting her head.

“If anyone asks, Archie’s been with me,” Jughead piped up, poking his head up to glance at Polly.

“I take it he’s not with you, then?”

“Not for the past two days,” Jughead said with a smirk on his face.

“Not for the past two…” Polly frowned, “Betty, where is Archie?”

“Uhm,” Betty coughed, face blushing. Jughead set his crown-hat back onto his head, setting his chin on the pillows. He was preening, pleased for his friend. Betty just groaned. Polly raised an eyebrow. She looked at Jughead imploringly.

“Spirits willing, having wild, wild sex right now.”

“Right,” Polly blinked once, “So, I’ll come back later tonight?”

Betty mumbled something through her hand, something Polly couldn’t hear. She asked Betty to speak up. Betty did so, begrudgingly.

“I said, it might be better to come back in at least a day- if not two days from now. You know. Reasons.”

Polly coughed, startling, “That long?”

Jughead snickered, “Oh yes. That long.”

Polly shrugged, “Well, then. Good for little Archie Andrews. Magicalism clearly has _some_ benefits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Three more to do! The event was extended a couple days, so I'll at least get this and perhaps one more up before time is done. Since I don't have big ideas for the last three, the last three might be way shorter- like a page or two- in comparison.
> 
> I'm honestly surprised I finished this tonight. Without giving away spoilers, I'm just obsessed with the new episodes of Game of Thrones and this episode? 8x02? It was like a fanfiction. All my dreams came true. I'm on freaking cloud nine!


	6. Veronica/Reggie: Easter Eggs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cute and short little Easter inspired couple short...with a dash of the supernatural
> 
> So, in this, this is somewhere season3/book3, but times are so whack in Riverdale that tbh I don't even want to guess around which episodes this would or would not take place. I digress. 
> 
> Important things to know is that Veronica is a vampire (newly changed, as in within the year) and Reggie is a human. He was a werewolf hunter for a while, but that's not as important now. And Betty is a witch, but that's just discussed in passing. 
> 
> This is the Easter prompt from the event!

“Ms. Lodge! Look at all the eggs I found!” 

Veronica turned, smiling widely at the young girl tugging on her dress. She knelt down in the grass, dramatically widening her eyes and gasping, brushing through the wildly colored eggs. 

“Oh, wow! You found all of these yourself?” 

The girl nodded, obviously brimming with pride, watching as Veronica touched the eggs softly. 

“All by myself. I think I even found more than my friend Katy,” The girl leaned in close, as though about to tell Veronica a secret, “And  _ she’s  _ a fae.” 

“Oh, really?” Veronica didn’t know wether to laugh at the young girl’s matter-o-fact tone or be concerned Riverdale was at such a point that this was just casual knowledge. Perhaps, all things considered, she should be glad. Glad that people were less likely to kill a different race over stupid, age-old blood feuds, or glad that a human such as this small girl could be friends with a magical wood fairy. It was all subjective, Veronica supposed. 

“Yep. She can sorta...feel the grass and the eggs. But I found more.” The girl said, pulling the basket back toward her protectively. 

“Do you want to open them up?” Veronica asked, settling herself next to the girl. 

“Yes!” The girl bounced up and down, “My name is Sarah, okay?” 

“Okay, Sarah,” Veronica purred with laughter, “Shall we on three?” She asked, placing one of the eggs in the girl’s hand and grasping a light blue on in her own palm. The girl nodded with resolve. Then, together, they tapped the egg against the hardest surface around- the girl used the edge of her basket while Veronica used her palm. 

Out tumbled candy. The girl looked pleased as punch. 

“How’d they get in there?” Sarah asked, squinting into the broken eggshells. 

“Magic,” Veronica replied. Once, saying ‘magic’ would have been code for ‘I don’t want to ruin your childhood by telling you the truth’. Right now, however, it  _ was  _ the truth. Stroke of genius on Betty’s part, Veronica mused, enchanting dull plastic eggs to resemble real eggs. 

She could see Betty and Jughead across the lawn, helping other small children locate the eggs. Veronica grinned. Sometimes, magic had its pluses. 

Sarah took no time at all to crack open the rest of her eggs, having lost interest in showing Veronica. Sarah’s friend, Katy, came over and soon the pair were lost in their own world of candy-bartering and giggling. 

Veronica opened the bar, going behind the seating area. She unscrewed her water bottle, nodding to Pop who was making pancakes for everyone, sipping slowly. A drop of blood dribbled from the edge of the cap, and Veronica licked around the edges. 

Urg, she winced, O+. Not as bad as O-, which was the vampire equivalent of a human eating cardboard, but still nothing to write home about. She had meant to mix it with bit of zesty A+ into it this morning, but alas, she’d been distracted. It was the blood currently at her disposal, so even so, Veronica was in no position to complain. 

She plucked a paper straw from the holder, dropping it into her drink. A holdover from her human days, when nothing was more pleasurable than daintily sipping from a straw. She imagined that perhaps the addition of the straw would make her mid-day meal a bit more...enjoyable. 

If she could have her pick, AB was the most flavorful. Bold, daring, and had a soft taste that lingered on her tongue. That was what she would chose. 

No, she thought with a pause, that wasn’t necessarily true. 

She could feel Reggie watching her from the other end of the booth. She was pleased she couldn’t blush anymore, or else she would be as red as a tomato. Something about Reggie, no matter where they were or how long they’d been seeing each other, still caused her undead heart to flutter away. 

“Got something,” He said, wiping a smear off the corner of her mouth. Since all the children were pre-occupied outside, and Pop was currently serving up breakfast on the far side, Reggie allowed Veronica to lick it from the pad of his finger instead of wiping it off. 

Veronica shivered, resisting the urge to sink her fangs into his palm.

Reggie was the best tasting blood. At one point, Archie had been. Veronica didn’t know if it was her desiering her boys that made them taste so sweet or if, a-la-Twilight, she was drawn to them because of their candy-flavored blood. 

Either way, if they were alone and not in such a public place…

“I saw you with that girl, you’re really good with kids,” Reggie said, withdrawing his hand and wiping it on his apron. 

“I’ve always enjoyed bring some family fun, though I’m still not sure if this is a good idea.” When Reggie raised his eyebrow in question, Veronica sighed, continuing, “You know, a secret speakeasy throwing an Easter Egg hunt.” 

“One; it’s not really secret anymore. Two; it’s located within Pop’s, so it’s more or less Pop’s throwing it. Three...lots of morally questionable places and sites have done good things. Like Pornhub-,”    
“Stop, I don’t think I want to know what ‘good deeds’ Pornhub has done,” Veronica said, but she was laughing. 

“I’m just sayin’,” Reggie shrugged, “Lots showed up. I think it’s real great of you, Ver.” 

Veronica chuckled a bit, shrugging. 

“I’m glad to be reminded of my humanity sometimes, I suppose. What little there may be left.” 

“Veronica,” Reggie said very carefully, very softly, “Do you regret it?” He asked, rubbing his hand across her cool skin. 

“I’m not sure what you mean?” Her voice croaked. 

“I see you with those kids. For a guy, it’s easy, you know? But for a girl...you gave up a lot.” 

Veronica yanked her hand away. 

“I don’t need a reminder,” She said frostily. 

“Look, arg, I’m sorry,” Reggie said, trotting after her as she walked swiftly to the back kitchens, “I just, you’re so good with kids and I mean, the thought of not havin’ to worry about birth control is great and all, but,” Reggie sighed, playing with a loose thread on his shirt, “I never thought much about kids. My dad’s a real ass, and I wasn’t all too excited in continuin’ with shitty traditions. Plus, I’m 17. I’m not at an age where I wanna be thinkin’ bout that. But with you? It sucks. I sometimes forget, when we’re together, that there’s not a chance of that.” 

“It’s not strictly a vampire thing. Plenty of women can’t have kids,” Veronica said, feeling a little overwhelmed by his confession. 

“I know, I know, but,” Reggie struggled, “I just I see it, before I remember, and then it’s gone.” 

Veronica took a step toward Reggie, a calculated one. 

“I see them too. The biological kids I may never have. I knew that going in to this, however, that for the greater good, I was giving that up. That doesn’t mean I’ll never be a mom. Adoption is still something I can do. But yes, sometimes, it makes me sad. Until I remember all that I gained.” 

“Immortality.” Reggie said in a shortened breathe. 

“Yes, and-,”  _ And I’d give it to you too, if you asked.  _

She stopped herself, though, tilting her head. They weren’t there yet. They were such a young new couple, it wasn’t right to dump that choice on him either. It was easier to live with an irreversible choice if you never given it at all. 

“Reg,” She just opted to say in a soft tone, “It’s good that you told me. I’m glad.” 

“Didn’t know I’d ever be so emotional over damn kids,” Reggie mumbled, wiping his hand over his nose. 

“It’s all conversations for very far down the line. I’m not ready to be a mother either, biologically or not.” Veronica added. 

“Good,” Reggie laughed, finding his footing in this conversation again, “Yeah.” 

“We should put more of the eggs out,” Veronica decided, finding work as she always did when her mind became most muddled. Work was steady. Work was dependable, “I think that this next batch has some coins in them. Pocket change, but still, kids like shiny things.” 

She grasped onto the palette, starting out of the room, but Reggie grasped her arm, pulling her toward him. 

He leaned down, kissing her briefly. 

“I really like you, Veronica,” He said quietly, “And I don’t know how to be with a vampire. I don’t wanna mess this up.” 

Veronica set the palette down, taking his cheeks in her palms and dragging him down for another kiss. 

“I don’t know how to  _ really _ date as a vampire, human or otherwise, so I suppose we’re even.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH i really love Veggie and I'm sad that they ended it. Maybe it's just because Cami and Charles dating IRL is so cute and their chemistry is so good, but I also just really like it on the show. I feel like, even if they were questionable dating, it's a lot more of a relationship in a lot of ways than Archie and Veronica, who were basically just having sex at all times, if I recall correctly XD I kid, I know those two love each other, but sigh. Why do my ships always sail to war and never return?


	7. Sweet Pea/Betty: Music Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to stay away from SweetBetts. I really did. I am weak. And not only is it a SweetBetts, it's a smutty one at that too... ;) 
> 
> This is somewhere in season 2 or 3. Not positive which. Dosen't matter too-too much in the long run. If you haven't gotten it yet, Betty is a witch and Sweet Pea is a werewolf in this. Enjoy magical goodness!

 

The text came in during her last hour on Friday. It was only Calculus, which Betty couldn’t claim to like all too much anyway, so she was glad for the distraction. Or, rather, a distraction from her current distraction, which was school. Distraction-inception. 

SWEET PEA <3 to BETTY: We’re going on an adventure this weekend. Be packed and ready by 5pm. 

Betty read it, internalized it, and then swiftly shot her hand into the air. 

“Miss Cooper?” Her math teacher, who was just as done as she was, asked tiredly. 

“I feel si-,” 

“Whatever, just go,” He sighed, waving her out of the classroom. Betty gathered her things quickly. She knew that Sweet Pea was no doubt finding his way out of study hall, so it was easy to find him. 

“What the heck is this?” She asked, raising it. 

“That, Betty, is a phone,” Sweet Pea replied in the same insufferable way he often was. She just found it more endearing now. 

“No, the text.” 

“Oh, well, did you read it?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Then,” Sweet Pea made a shrugging motion, “I don’t know what was unclear.” 

“Everything,” Betty complained, “Going on an adventure? To where? What kind of adventure? A magic kind? A normal kind? How? What should I pack? Is this really smart to do right now? Why-,” 

“Oh, hey,” Sweet Pea placed his hands on her shoulders, “I just thought it might be nice. To get away from Riverdale for just a bit. With everything going on, you know?” He murmured. Betty swallowed hard, giving a tense nod, “Okay, but how are we getting there?” 

“I just got my truck, paid for by your help with selling magic potions and shit. I’d say it’s due for a road trip, don’t you?” He asked, smirking. 

“But-,” 

“God, you just can’t take a surprise, can you?” He asked, rolling his eyes, but there was a smile underneath his expression. Betty clasped her hands over her lips,  wincing. 

“No, not really.” 

“Good thing you’re cute,” Sweet Pea quirked an eyebrow, pulling her dangerously close to him. 

“Sweets,” Betty whacked him with her notebook, “We’re in the middle of the halls at school!” 

“C’mon, you can’t have expected a leather-clad werewolf ne’er-do-well like myself to keep his hands to himself, especially when you look good enough to eat,” He practically purred, managing a single kiss before Betty regained her senses and shoved him back. 

“I’ll see you a five,” She said sternly. Sweet Pea looked Betty up and down, his eyes velvet brown and his smile sent shivers up her spine. 

“That I will, Cooper, that I will.” 

XXxxXX

At 4:15 the doorbell rang. Betty had no illusions that Sweet Pea would be this early, so she wasn’t surprised to see Veronica. It was the shortlist of those it logically could be. 

“You packed?” She squealed, breezing in. Alice may have real problems with letting a vampire into their house so casually, but Betty had long ago lifted the boundary spell for her. Veronica was her best friend. She’d been her best friend longer than she’d been supernatural. 

“So, you know too?” 

“Pea texted me, instructing me to make sure you had adventure appropriate clothes.” Veronica was just grinning, “You’re so lucky, girl. And you deserve it,” she said, taking her hands in Veronica’s cold ones, “Polly’s in on it too. We’re covering for you for the weekend.” 

“Oh, great, it’s a production now.” 

“Yeah. So, this it?” Veronica started dumping out Betty’s meticulously packed weekend bag,“Oh, no...nope...god, this?” 

“Really, must you?” Betty asked, plopping down on her armchair as she watched Veronica mercilessly critique her wardrobe. 

“Yes, I must. We’re going to your room. This al has to be repacked.” Veronica said. 

“So, you know where I’m going.” 

“He told me, and you’re not getting it out of my head!” Veronica said, stopping Betty before she could try, “I’d just enjoy this for what it is. No serial killers, no awkward ex run-ins, no ominous fatalistic prophecies.” 

“I mean, I guess when you put it like that,” Betty mumbled. 

“You’re going to reclaim your teenage-dorm, girl.” 

Veronica started going through Betty’s closet, as well as the boxes Polly had packed away pre-pregnancy. Betty recalled the last time Veronica had been siccd on Betty to pick clothes; at the club. Sure, she hadn’t come out feeling awful, just out of her comfort zone. At least she seemed to be picking more...casual pieces this time. 

There was a lot of lace things; creamy lace at that. Crop tops. Tie-dye. A weird amalgamation of items that Veronica was shoving back into her bag. 

“I still have no idea where we’re going,” Betty said, the clothes being picked not helping her one bit. 

Veronica gave her a dubious look. She rolled her eyes when she realized Betty was serious, “Girl, you need to get on social media more.” 

XXxxXX

Sweet Pea arrived at 5:30 in true Sweet Pea fashion. His new truck was black and gleaming, and there was a wolf decal on the back window. It smelled like new car, still, even after a handful of weeks in his possession. 

Veronica had left at 4:55, after dressing Betty. Betty wished perhaps she’d stayed until Sweet Pea came.

It wasn’t that Betty was nervous to be with Sweet Pea. That wasn’t it. She never felt nervous around the Alpha. It was that she was, admittedly, nervous to be just with  _ him.  _ No inopportunely time distractions, no awkward conversations with Jughead, no maniac on the loose to push their relationship to the back burner. 

Just them, and everything it had been building toward since she had first met him and he’d saved her ass all those months ago. 

“Still not going to tell me where we’re going?” She asked, “So, am I appropriately dressed?” She added half-sarcastically as she hopped in the passenger seat. 

“No and fuck yes,” Sweet Pea said, eyes roving her body. She noticed he was dressed more casually than usual, less chains and all. She knew he still had them tucked away somewhere in case of a bit of needed magic, but it was obvious he was looking to relax right now. 

“Hey,” he said teasingly, as Betty gave him a hard once-over as well, “My eyes are up here.” 

Just like that, all her fears vanished. She laughed so hard she snorted, the most unladylike sound she’d ever made. 

“Oh, god, sorry,” She said, wiping her eyes. Sweet Pea was just looking at her so softly. 

He titled his head before grasping her hand, pulling her body a little across the drink-holder in between them, giving her one of the most chase kisses she thought he’d ever managed. 

“We’re going to have a good time this weekend, okay?” 

Betty, who would follow Sweet Pea to the ends of the earth, believed him. 

XXxxXX

They arrived about two hours later. The ride was filled with snacks galore and Sweet Pea’s carefully curated playlist. Betty didn’t even try to put her own music on, she knew he had a  _ thing  _ about that. She drove, per usual, and he instructed her. In their free time, Betty talked about one of the potions she was trying to make recently- a potion to fix all period ailments- and the pair bounced ideas and herb substitutions between them for a time. Then, Sweet Pea got wound up talking about all the new info about the Star Wars movie coming out (Betty didn’t keep up with it, but she so loved to see his eyes shine as he explained the universe to her) and that pretty much ate up their mini road trip.

“Ah, okay, turn into...here…” 

Betty did so, reading the sign tacked to the billboard. 

“A music festival?” She asked, waiting in the queue to park. 

“Yeah!” Sweet Pea was shining with his own pride, “I mean, I wanted to go to this in the first place, but it was Cheryl that suggested I take you. A getaway. I was thinking Coachella, but that’s a little far away.” 

Betty snorted, “Just a little.” 

Sweet Pea was looking at Betty, totally psyched. 

“A music festival,” Betty repeated, humming to herself. Her first response was that it wasn’t her thing, but why couldn’t it be? Her thing was more so murder mysteries, but that was just hitting too close to home. Normal teenagers went to concerts. She was excited at the chance to be just...Betty Cooper, a girl from a small town with her boyfriend, Sweet Pea. 

“Well, I mean, it’s the whole magic tradition and-,” 

“Huh?” 

“Yeah! Not everyone at festivals is magical, but a lot are,” Sweet Pea said. Even as they drove forward a little more, Betty spotted another werewolf looping around the field with a min-pack and what was maybe a siren over in the corner, “Music festivals in themselves are inherently fae and witch culture.” 

Betty thought about it, nodding to herself. Sweet Pea kept explaining. 

“You gotta admit, the whole ‘let’s all gather in a field and sing songs all night’ is totally within the bounds of your whole ‘thing’. Plus there’s a certain affinity for boho-chic and woodsy clothes, a return to nature. You can't tell me something magical doesn’t happen at these things.” 

“So,” Betty said, tilting her head, “What you’re telling me is that Woodstock was a witches coven meeting?” 

“Yeah, basically.” 

“Okay,” Betty said, suddenly a lot more excited, “Yeah, this is really cool, Sweets.” Sweet Pea leaned back in his seat, drawing his teeth across his bottom lip, looking like a cat who’d had the milk as well as the canary. Damn his arrogant, sexy smile, Betty thought as a bolt of heat lit her on fire, damn him. 

“I know best at least 90% of the time,” Sweet Pea said, “I don’t know why you haven’t figured that out yet, Coop.” 

XXxxXX

The first night was rather low-key. Sweet Pea didn’t have a tent, but he did have his pickup truck and a twin-size mattress with enough blanket and pillows to please an army. He had a dented cooler with food and drinks. He had enough skills to set them up nicely. Then, using magic under whispered tones, Betty cast an Umbrella charm and a warming statis charm over the bed of the truck. The Umbrella charm worked as an invisible boundary to keep out all things; rain, snow, wind, bugs, and idiots trying to rob them in the night. The warming statis charm keep the bed toasty warm. Sweet Pea procured a pair of folding chairs to set around the little fire pit. 

The artists performing that night was no one Betty knew, but Sweet Pea seemed into it, and she enjoyed swaying to the melodic tunes. At least half were probably sirens, but she could still enjoy the music for what it was. 

The found others, made friends. Magic’s found each other without having to announce it. Of course, there was some wide eyes when they introduced themselves; a Coven leader and a mega-Alpha were going to cause some stuttered gasps, but after a few minutes of conversation, most figured out they were just a pair of kids here to enjoy the music, same as the rest. 

They found themselves around a large bonfire by the time night had fell. The stars twinkled above them, and half of the little pockets had someone with a guitar and a lot of laughs. Sweet Pea had graciously offered up one of their chairs to someone else, but it all seemed to be within his plan, because he was tugging Betty onto his lap before she could protest. 

He was shirtless. The spring air was warm enough, along with the bonfires, to even cause some perspiration along his brow. Plus, his wolffish blood naturally kept him warm, and Betty too, by extension. Betty was wearing a tank-top and a pair of jeans, thanks to Veronica, nothing overly special though.

Sweets moaned into her neck as she sank back into his embrace, his noise muffled by her skin. She could feel a bead of sweat drip down her nape, and Sweets licked it up, causing a shiver up her spine. 

“Bad dog,” She teased, eyes lighting with mirth, for his ears only. 

“Good dog,” he countered, hands at her hips, holding her against him. 

“Hey, Betty, so,” One of the girls from across the circle caught her attention and threw her a beer. A year ago, Betty probably wouldn’t have accepted it. Now, however? After all the BS they’d gone through? Yeah, Betty had done  _ far  _ worse things than underage drink. Plus, it was really crappy Bud Light, which pretty much tasted like flavored water. Sweet Pea had slightly better stuff, but it was dark, which she just didn’t have the taste for anyway. She nodded thanks to the girl. She thought maybe it had been a banshee? She reminded herself that she needed to pick her brain later; she didn’t think there were banshees in Riverdale, “is it true what they say?” 

Immediately, a couple of the other girls ear’s in the group perked up, looking at the banshee- Meg, and then to Betty. Meg looked happy to have the attention. 

“About,” Meg continued after a pause, “You know, werewolves.” 

Sweets had been right that the grouping was mostly witches, warlocks, and fae. Werewolves weren’t a cryptid here, but it was uncommon. Plus, even if they were around, they had come in packs, making it harder to socialize. As it was, however, all the packs that were here had come to pay respects to sweet Pea and Betty. 

Meg’s eyes pointedly looked to Sweet Pea’s lap. Betty wasn’t naive enough to even pretend like she didn’t know what they were talking about. Plus, she relished in it. 

She gave a coy grin. 

“Well,” She said, leaning in and very purposely grinding her hips into Sweet Pea’s. She could feel him harden beneath her, his nails digging into her jeans, “If you want the truth…” she waited until everyone- boy and girl in the circle- was watching her, “Yes, I guess it’s true. At least, it is when we’re talking about an Alpha.” 

“Know any other of those around, then?” A fae called out, licking her lips. For once, Betty’s first thought wasn’t Jughead. It was only belatedly she thought of him. In this moment, she just laughed. 

“I have the best one, so I don’t know if it matters,” She teased. 

She could feel the vibrations of Sweet Pea’s approval at that, the purr on his voice as he gave a nearly inaudible ‘ _ mine’ _ and bucked his hips into hers. 

A male fae with hair longer than Betty’s lit a hit of something. She could smell it in the air; sweet and romantic, with just a hint of something spicy. She watched with a furrowed brow as it was passed around. She realized it would be handed off to her momentarily. 

“Weed?” She muttered under her breath to Sweet Pea. The glaze that had gone over his eyes at her little display vanished as he titled his head, tasting the air. 

“You think the best grass fae have is weed, Betty? For shame. This is magical shit. Totally harmless to humans, like smoking oregano or something. But for us?” He grinned, chuckling and shrugging. 

Betty hummed, trying not to look like she was thinking too hard about this. 

“Look, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna. Seriously. But, if you do and you’re worried, I won’t. I’ve got you Betty,” Sweet Pea added in a moment of utter seriousness, “I always have you.” 

“Nothing bad will happen?” She asked, slightly curious. 

“Nothing.” He insisted, squeezing her hand, “It just...makes you care less. It’s freeing.” His eyes blinked at hers. 

Betty licked her lips. When she committed to something, she never did it half-way. 

When the blunt came around, she took it. Sweet Pea, honest to his word, graciously thanked the owner but passed. 

Betty had never tried weed. Toni had talked about it enough so that she was aware of who it was supposed to make one feel; like, slap happy or sleep deprived. She almost expected similarly airy feelings from this. 

That wasn’t what happened. 

It did free her, insomuch as that the effects crawled up in her slowly. It broke away silly, stupid anxieties and worries- like the concern about how others would see her and perceive her- or the barriers she’d once held herself strictly too. If anything, it made her feel and see more logically. Betty felt like she could write a thesis paper on this stuff, and a good one at that!

“See what I mean?” Sweets asked, staring up at adoringly. She was curled up completely on his lap. Her hands were curling at the hair at his neck, her cheek pressed against his. If she were sober, she would have been worried about people judging her for PDA. Now? Hell, she loved Sweets and she didn’t care. She wanted people to see her with him. 

Sweet Pea titled her lips for a kiss that was like lava; so hot and warm, but achingly slow and tantalizingly tempting. His breath was so steamy as he exhaled, one arm locked around her whole body, sheltering her against him. Though not in a position to tease him anymore, she could tell he was still incredibly horny. 

By the time the night had ended completely, Betty raised an inquisitive eyebrow to Sweets. 

“Not tonight,” He said, “Just go to sleep, Betty.” 

She couldn’t find an argument, so she did.

XXxxXX

“Argh! Sweets! Put me down!” Betty squealed, jokingly slapping his back as Sweet Pea hoisted Betty onto his shoulders. Her new friends’ laughter was infectious, and soon she was unsteadily sitting on top of him, his arms around her legs to keep her steady. 

“How can you see otherwise, though?” Sweets called up, “It’s what all the cute couples are doing,” He added. 

“You two really are adorable,” Meg breathed in a rush. She was sitting on her boyfriend’s shoulders too. Honestly, it was Lana Del Rey, so Betty was absolutely excited and did want to see it…

“Oh, thanks,” Betty blushed, casting a glance down at him. Sweet Pea gave her a thumbs up. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile so much. 

It was the last artist tonight. They’d spent the day lounging and hanging with their new friends, drinking beer and rushing over each other to share stories. It was so relaxing. Betty almost had forgotten all the troubles that lay in a small town just an hour or so away. 

“I made you this!” A freckled fae named Eden said, setting a rose flower crown on Betty’s head, “Fit for a Queen!” 

“Oh, god, Eden, I can’t accept this. It’s stunning,” Betty said, “And, well,” She looked down at Sweets.

Eden laughed behind her hand, “Oh, come on. It’s not like that. You’re not indebted to me, silly. I’m doing it because I like you.” 

“Really?” 

“Did you feel any legally binding magic?” Sweet Pea asked tilting his head up, “Mh, looks great, Coop.” 

“Well, no-,” 

“Then nothing. Just say thank you.” 

Betty gave up, turning to Eden. 

“Really, thanks.” 

“I can make a King’s crown too,” Eden offered, looking to Sweet Pea. He harrumphed. 

“Maybe.” 

XXxxXX

They sat in the back of Sweet Pea’s truck. It was after the last Saturday concert, before dinner. They were mixing a large portion together for a totally epic mac-n-cheese pot, which sounded delicious. 

Sweet Pea and Betty were just sitting. They had been watching a movie on his iPad, but somewhere along the way, he’d gotten distracted and his hand had started creeping up her arm, his lips traveling up her collarbone, to other neck, and finally to her lips. 

Betty allowed this, because she too was dying for his touch, and abandoned the movie for some making out. Very quickly it turned from gentle, teasing kisses to wanting, lusting, bruising ones. It was when Sweet Pea’s hand began snaking down her stomach, running along the edge of her shorts that she stopped him. 

“Sweets,” She said, but her voice cracked, breathless, “We’re in public,” She reminded with a groan. 

“No one cares,” he crooned in her ear, “It’s all about love, sex, and magic this weekend, babe.” 

“Jordan,” Betty said sternly, her expression losing it’s sternness when he began to suck at her neck, which always made her feel like jelly. 

“Elizabeth,” Sweet Pea mimicked back. A finger dipped under her pants, “I just want you so bad,” he admitted after a moment. 

“I do too, but we are out in the open!” 

Sweet Pea pulled back after an agonizing moment, settling beside her. 

“Okay, how about this. We tap into that great magical mainframe and set up some spells. A notice-me-not in charm form. Maybe a loop-repeater, so if anyone is paying weirdly close attention to my truck bed, they just see us talking.” His words tickled her ear. 

“Like, a sheet of magic protecting us? Soundproof?” 

“Well yeah, soundproof. Like a two-way mirror. We can see all of them, but they won’t see us.” 

Sweet Pea pulled the blanket up to Betty’s waist, curling his knees up to shield his deft fingers that teased at her entrance, through her pants. Betty’s breath hitched. 

“You know, sex magic is a thing. I hadn’t brought it up, but I think it’s high time we continue with your education, Betty,” Sweet Pea said, cupping her jaw to turn her toward him. His other hand was still teasing her, enough to make her squirm and bite back a moan. 

“You’re just making that up,” She huffed. 

“No, honestly, I’m not. Sex and magic have always been close to each other. And if you know how to use it…” 

“Okay, Mr.Recently-Not-A-Virgin,” She rolled her eyes. 

“Just because I lost it to you doesn’t mean I wasn’t well aware of the existence,” Sweet Pea said quietly, “Betty, please, I want to have you right now. So bad.” 

It was only when his fingers pulled away and Betty’s throat made a whining sound that she knew he’d won; Jordan knew it too. His eyes flashed golden and all of a sudden his entire body was just so  _ present.  _

“You think we could manage those spells?” Betty asked, still trying to keep a smidgen of decorum. 

“The bloodlines of two fucking magical families? Plus sex magic? Yeah, I do,” Sweet Pea said, “Now, just repeat after me…” 

He fed her the words, Betty intoned them carefully. She could feel the magic rise off their body like static electricity. The air around them shimmered and smudged, like someone had squirted a spray bottle on a windowpane. As the charms settled themselves around the air cleared once again. 

“Did it work?” 

Stupid question; Betty could feel the heaviness around them and smelled sandalwood the scent of hidden magics. 

“I don’t fucking care,” Sweet Pea said frankly, his patience snapping. He pulled Betty up, just a bit, crawling on top of her. He grasped her face, his kisses near painful with just a little bit of biting and blood, his werewolf fangs sinking into the softness of her pouty lower lip. He tugged it between his teeth, moaning. They’d had sweet moments before, where sex was languished and full of soft kisses. This, Betty could already tell, was not going to be one of those times. 

Sweet Pea shoved up her shirt, grasping at her breasts and taking his attention to lick around her nipples. Betty struggled a moment to throw off her top, only taking a momentary pause to catch the nearly imperceivable glow of their barrier spell. And, spirits, if it hadn’t worked...maybe, just maybe, she didn’t care. 

She tugged his shirt from his belt, and it too joined a growing pile near the edge of the pickup bed. She ran her nails all down his abdomen, enjoying the way his body tensed and reacted to her light touches. 

He looked up at her with such a fiendish look that it made her dizzy, and then his fingers and tongue were once again working at her breasts. It was such an overwhelming feeling that she hadn’t even realized his other hand had snaked down to her pants until her shorts were shoved down her legs. 

“Oh, fuck, you’re already so wet,” Sweet Pea said in satisfaction as he brushed his knuckles over her underwear. 

“‘Course I am,” Betty bit her lip, leaning back against the window to the driver’s seat, “I’m crazy about you.” 

“Sometimes, I like reminders,” he said, his words something that for sure needed to be unpacked later, but right now he was dipping one finger into her, two, three...pumping in and out, enjoying watching the changes to her expression. 

Betty’s hand fumbled for his belt buckle, shoving his jeans all the way off. His hardness sprung free, already weeping. Betty swiped a finger across the head, nodding as Sweet Pea’s back arched. He responded by rubbing the sensitive hooded bundle of nerves at the top of her opening, the pleasure of that alone enough to send Betty tumbling over the edge. She came once on his fingers as she rode his hand, her own fist giving his length varied pressure. As she came down from her high, thighs dripping, she caught the look on his face; she expected arrogance, but instead, it was something awestruck. 

“Are you going to stare at me like a deer, or fuck me like a wolf?” Betty asked, taking his fingers to her lips and flicking her tongue out to taste the juices there. Sweet Pea’s whole body shuddered, like he was going to morph into an actual wolf right in front of her, but he managed to calm it. 

“I love it when you talk dirty, Betty.” 

He dragged Betty’s hips toward his, pumping himself twice. He pushed his fingers inside her once more, shoving her underwear aside, seamlessly replacing his large hands for his hard-on. He bottomed out in one sharp jerk of his hips, his forehead resting on hers for just a second. Betty was so ready, so hot that it didn’t have even a moment of pain. Just the feeling of being completely filled, utterly pleased. She closed her eyes, pressing her lips together and sighing contentedly. 

Sweet Pea lifted Betty’s leg, pushing in even farther. Betty exhaled hard, her hands grasping at his ass to keep him inside her. She almost thought that Sweet Pea would gently push her shoulders down, so she was laying, and go from there, but he maneuvered them-without ever slipping out-so that even though he was the one doing the lion’s share of the work, Betty was upright too. 

“Look around us,” He hissed in his ear through gritted teeth as he started to rock his hips, “Look at everyone. They have no idea what’s happening right under their noses,” He said. Betty opened her eyes, doing exactly that. The music festival camp-goers walked around them and their truck, sometimes even brushing right up against the side. Some people even looked right at Betty, though they had no idea they were doing so. 

It was sort of a turn on, Betty realized, to be doing this in open daylight, with only magic as a shield between them and the rest of the camp. No clothes, no blankets, no attempts to cover-up. 

Sweet Pea was going at a bruising pace, his fingers sliding over her skin, sure to leave marks in one or two places. She had asked for this, and was Sweet Pea ever delivering. 

“If they only knew,” Sweet Pea said between pants, relentlessly slamming into her, “That their king and queen were fucking like dirty animals. Just how you like it.” 

“I do,” Betty exhaled. She could feel her climax rising again, “Jordan, I-,” 

“I know, Betty, I know,” Sweet Pea said, clutching her harder against him, so close that there wasn’t an inch of space, “Me too. Fuc-,” 

“Oh, come, Sweets. With me,” Betty encouraged him, fingers knotting in his hair, pulling just enough for a flash of pain before pleasure. She felt her second orgasm wash over her, and a second later, Sweet Pea was stiffening above her, fingers rubbing her thighs tenderly as he spent himself inside of her. 

He rolled them both to their side, still connected to her. They panted, his arms curling around her tenderly, kissing her forehead. She could smell the salt from their sweat on them, plus the mixture of sex that lingered on the blankets. 

“God, I love you, Betty,” Sweet Pea said, legs twining in between hers. 

“I know,” She replied, her heartwarming. He laid there for a second before leaning over and grabbing a box of tissues, so that when he pulled out, he was able to clean up quickly. They dressed in their clothes, sending blushing expressions each other’s way. Then, they took down the notice-me-not. 

They continued with their movie until Meg slapped the edge of the trailer. 

“You guys ready for the best mac-n-cheese you ever eaten?”

“I’m starved,” Sweet Pea said, stretching out, “You, Betty?” 

She grinned back.

“Absolutely famished.”     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mhhh, how do you like that! 
> 
> (SPOILERS FOR GAME OF THRONES AHEAD) I've just been so obsessed with the new episode and the Gendrya content we were given so if you felt certain parts of this were sorta giving you forgesex vibes, you'd be right. I just am literally screaming all day about this. I am blessed. 
> 
> Anywho, for all of you hoping for SweetBetts to become canon in BOMB, here ya go!


End file.
